


Siren's Gold

by Samatura



Category: overwatch
Genre: Death, Homosexual Sex, M/M, Mermaid Hanzo, Pirate McCree, probably at some point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-27 16:14:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10031006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samatura/pseuds/Samatura
Summary: When Pirate Captain Jesse "DeadEye" McCree is rescued from an agonizing death drifting in the sea, he doesn't know whether to be grateful or miserable. But when he realizes exactly who- and what- his rescuer is, he finds he suddenly has a new reason to live. Yet when past demons threaten to rob him of his new found purpose, he must chose once and for all what truly matters to him and what he is willing to fight for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I got such a big reaction after my initial tease of this on my McHanzo blog Sake-and-whiskey that I just had to keep it going! This chapter is going to be a lot of world building, but be patient with me. Thank you all for the encouragement and support. I hope y'all enjoy! More notes at the end!

“ALL CREW TO YER POSTS! ENEMY FLAGS ON THE HORIZON!”

The scramble that followed those words was one of utter chaos. Men darting everywhere, hoisting ropes and rolling out canons, filling them with gunpowder and giant iron balls. The air was filled with yelling and swearing in nearly every language, every man fulfilling a purpose and telling all those around him to be quick about it. The ocean churned roughly, sending people sliding across the slicked deck, but it mattered not to the well adjusted crew, working around every tip and pitch of the ship. They were all sailors of blood, and knew the seas better than they knew land. Which also meant they knew the danger of having an enemy sailing directly at them, and knew very well that these few minutes of preparation would decide if they lived or died.

Storming across the main deck, the first mate was screaming orders, quick to give commands and instructions. Her long dark hair in beaded locks billowed out in the angry wind, voice carrying to all those over the din of their preparation. “Make sure that’s tied down properly! All canons locked in and ready to fire! Get that flag up and flying, I want those bastards knowing exactly who it is they’re dealing with. Someone get the captain out here, now! Ready the main sails full wind towards the horizon!”

Her coat whipped behind her, tanned skin lit up in the orange glow of the setting sun. Fareeha Amari was a seasoned first mate, and knew the life of a Pirate better than most. Her mother had been a Captain, and she had sailed the seas her entire life. The dark tattoo she donned beneath her eye was a symbol of that proud lineage, and declared her a descendant of the legendary Captain Amari. She had once been a mere sailor, but now as a first mate, she took her role very seriously, and understood the power and importance of her command. Lives hung in the echoes of her words, and she did not intend to fail them. “Keep it together, you mangy animals! We will not die tonight! AND WHERE IS THE CAPTAIN?!” 

She was answered with the slamming of doors, and all heads turned to the Quarter Deck. There he stood, coat flying behind him as he grabbed hold of the railing, eyeing up his crew. Captain Jesse McCree, glaring towards the horizon line, tall and poised for battle. His face was rough and warn, a shaggy beard covering his chin and a hefty cigar smoldering between his lips. He was a man soldiers feared and respected, one who had cheated death many times and lived to tell the tale. He was a legend in his own regard, the brash captain who had once been a Navy soldier under the legendary Captain Amari herself, but abandoned the crown in search of revenge and glory. The man with the eye patch and the mechanical arm, whom rumor said could see into your very soul, that had coined him the name ‘DeadEye’ so many years ago. All knew the legends of DeadEye the Pirate, of how he only robbed those who deserved it and could kill six men in the blink of an eye. His crew was proud to serve him, the man who had earned them countless riches and uncountable adventures, and were ready to fight to the death along side him. 

“Well now,” he began, pulling his cigar from his lips to call out to the crew who paused only a moment to hear him speak. “Let’s be prepared to slaughter anyone who dares step foot on this deck, shall we lads?”

The crew erupted in cheers, confidence flooding through them as they went back to their mad scramble. McCree stepped up to the helm, fingers clasped around it tightly as he steered the ship towards the coming enemy ship. Fareeha slid up beside him, arms folded as she surveyed the final preparations. “It’s him,” She said in a low voice. “The lookout gave the call; black flag with the cow skull in a circle of red; that is the Blackwatch flag. That’s certainly him, is it not?”

“Reckon it must be,” McCree answered, puffing on his cigar. Fareeha looked him over, face lit in the setting sun. She could see the pain there the other crew could not. Then again, she knew Jesse better than anyone else did. The two had known each other since they were children, when Jesse had been deposited into her mother’s custody. Deposited by him. 

“You haven’t seen him since the last skirmish we had back in the Caspian, correct?” She asked, words cautious and testing. “He tried to kill us, tried to sink Deadlock.”

“Aye,” He answered gruffly. “The bastard hasn’t dared shown his face since then.”

“He was different. We did not talk about it then, but I feel we should now. I worry this battle won’t be as easy as the last.” 

“There ain’t nothin’ to talk about Fareeha,” he snapped, shooting her a look with his good eye. 

The woman glared at him, words spit like venom. “You KNOW that is not the case. You have heard the rumors, I have, we all have! That Captain Gabriel Reyes of the Royal Navy was HANGED for TREASON, for BETRAYING THE CROWN.” She whispered roughly, eyes narrowed. “And that happened after we fought him last, McCree. So tell me how a dead man can be sailing towards us now? How he can his ship be here if he was hung by the crown? You know-”

“I ain’t know SHIT, Fareeha,” he snapped back, turning to look at her. “All I know is that there be his ship, and if that bastard ain’t dead, then I’m gonna be the one to kill him myself.” 

 

Their conversation was cut off by a call from the look out; The enemy was coming in fast, within range. Fareeha growled in annoyance, growing into a full blown roar, as she stormed away, down onto the main deck. “ALL CREW TO YOUR POSTS! Every man be ready to fire as soon as they come close enough, on the captain’s word, and don’t let those bastards board! If they do, have those swords ready and be prepared to fight to the death! We fight against treacherous cowards on this night, and the Sea Gods will smile on us for painting the deck with their blood! Now all crew, to your posts, on the Captain’s command!”

There was a raw silence that cannot be described as the crew fell into place, waiting with anticipation for the captain’s word. The enemy ship came closer into view, black on the horizon as the sun slipped further beneath the sea, the sky beginning to fade to the inky black of the night. Every breath was hitched as the black flag that flew from the mast came into view, the white Cow skull wreathed in red flying in the wind. The Blackwatch. All men waited, muscles burning and adrenaline pumping, as the ship came closer into view, lit in the pale light of the moon. Until finally, McCree’s roar tore through the silence, ripping it to shreds, filling the hearts of every man with the will to fight, to live, or to die trying. 

“FIRE!”

Cannons exploded in an instant, reverberating through the hull of the ship and shaking the waves beneath them. The sound was loud and hollow, cracking the ears of the sailors that clutched the guns in their place as they scrambled to reload and refill the powder. A few hit their mark, bursting through the hull of the enemy ship with the sound of splintering wood magnified by a thousand. Their cannon fire was met with it’s own encore, enemy fire hurtling through the air. One tore through the front most gun, sending shock waves through the ship that took men off their feet. 

Fareeha grunted, grabbing hold of the main mast to steady herself. McCree growled in frustration, feeling a pain in his side that only a captain can feel when their ship is damaged. He whirled the helm away, trying to encircle the ship and go at it from a different way, but the enemy was smarter, faster. They had sacrificed the ability to shoot first and gain the most physical blows on the hull for the opportunity to focus on speed, on getting in close. Cannon fire continued to resound, but the enemy ship only slid closer, too close for comfort. Fareeha was screaming orders, and their guns continued to blast, tearing into the enemy ship, but it seemed as though it did nothing. No matter how many of their cannonballs ate into the enemy hull, the ship remained standing, drawing ever closer, shooting their own guns into the Deadlock all the while. 

“Captain! We’re takin’ on water down here, sir!” A crew member called as they clambered from below deck, and McCree could feel it with the slow pitch of the main bow. 

He drew his gun, abandoning the helm as the ship slotted up beside the Deadlock, thundering down the steps onto the main deck. “BOARD THE ENEMY SHIP!” He screamed, and the crew didn’t have to be told twice, dropping ropes and grabbing at their weapons. “Don’t let them get away with this, kill every one of those bastards! And if you can, bring me the Captain ALIVE!” Fareeha was the first one to lead the charge, grabbing hold of a rope and swinging the gap onto the enemy deck, sword drawn and at the ready. Crew members followed her without hesitation, dropping onto the Blackwatch deck with screams of war.

But just as his crew began bridging the gap, so did the crew of the BlackWatch. They swung across and dropped to his deck, swords and guns drawn and ready. Jesse’s face twistedin confusion when he saw them, these crew members dressed in all black with red paint smeared across their faces. These were no ordinary sailors; they were Talon mercenaries, ocean thugs and vigilantes whose loyalty could be bought buy the highest bidder. Had they stolen the BlackWatch? That was suddenly a very real possibility. If not, What in gods name would Reyes be doing with Talon? He had always detested them, hated how they had no real loyalty. But, then again, neither did Reyes, Jesse grimaced. 

His thoughts were cut short when a group of them turned his way, and he pulled his gun just in time. ‘BANGBANGBANG’ and they all hit the deck, one after another. Jesse jumped over them, drawing his sword in his mechanical left arm, wielding his glittering pistol in his right. Had there been anyone there to simply observe the battle, they would have been awestruck by the pirate captain. He tore through the ranks of the Talon soldiers, hacking with his sword and finishing with his pistol like it was a fluid dance. McCree ducked in and out of his own crew and the enemy easily, making good headway, spurned on by the pounding of his heart and the rush of battle. He was a warrior at his core, a soldier trained by the seas, and he had fought countless times. The men of Talon were no match for him. 

He had cleared a group of them, bodies stacked around him, and noticed their numbers dwindling, a few even roping back over to the BlackWatch. McCree grinned darkly, ready to call out a victory cry, when a hollow ‘CLICK’ echoed beside his ear. He didn’t move; He knew that sound, and felt with it the cold of the barrel of a gun. He couldn’t see who held it, but he didn’t have to. Jesse felt the air grow cold and quiet, the sounds of the battle dying down as he watched his crew members freeze up, eyes wide in fear and horror as they watched their captain stand still with a gun pressed to his head, though their eyes were on the man who held the gun. Jesse scowled as he watched them become overtaken by the Talon men, shoved to their knees, guns to their heads and knives at their throats. He could see others being thrown overboard into the dark water, or being dragged back onto the Deadlock from the BlackWatch. Somewhere behind him, he heard Fareeha struggling as she was pulled back on board, cursing and screaming, a lone voice in the quiet. 

“Get your hands off me you motherfuckers, there will be justice here, I will be sure of that! I will kill you all where you stand, I will….” But her voice faded out, replaced by a gasp of horror. When she spoke again, the rage in her voice was gone, now only a quiet whisper of fear. “What in gods name…. Gabriel…?”

It was then he heard the laugh. A laugh that sounded cold and wet, reverberating and rough like spoken sand paper, that chilled McCree to his bones. It made his blood run cold, a laugh like the devil himself, followed by a voice to match. “Did you miss me, Ingrate? It’s been a long time.” 

Jesse didn’t have to see his face to hear the smile that was playing on his lips. His voice was warbled and evil, but without a doubt it was the same voice he used to know so well. His skin crawled when he heard it, hair prickling on the back of his neck. He heard heavy footfalls, felt the tip of the gun slide across the back of his head, until finally, the figure stood before him. 

Jesse McCree was not a religious man by any means, but he had spent too long living on the seas to not believe in magic, and know that there were too many secrets beneath the waves to ever know. What stood before him now only cemented that the Devil was one of those secrets, and that he stood before him now. The man before him had skin that was shriveled and pale with death, wet and glossy like that of a body left to the waves too long. His eyes were pure black, empty voids that bore into Jesse’s soul. His mouth was turned up into more than a smile, a snarl of teeth that looked like they had all come from different masters, sharp and yellow. The top of his head was covered in a hat that was dripping with sea water and mosses, lichens hanging down onto his shoulders. Open wounds littered his face, and worked their way down his neck until his flesh disappeared into a black coat. Smoke poured out from behind him, and the base of his coat flowed and licked like the tendrils of an octopus. The hand that held the gun before Jesse’s eyes was as pale and shriveled as his face, but his fingernails were long and curved like claws, sickly black in color. Smoke poured from between the gaps in his teeth, filtering into the night air. 

He was no man.  
He was a monster.

McCree couldn’t hide his revulsion, but the rage within him bubbled up over the fear. “Been a long time, huh? I don’t think we’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting.”

The creature laughed, shaking his head. “Oh my son, don’t you recognize your old friend? You always were such a rude boy.”  
“Y’ain’t no friend of mine,” Jesse spat. “I don’t make a habit of makin’ friends with the devil. ‘Specially not one parading around in the skin of a man that betrayed me.”  
The monster scoffed, shaking his head. “You always were so selfish, mijo. But that’s alright. I haven’t come to talk. I’ve come for justice.” 

Behind him, he heard Fareeha find her voice. “Justice?! What do you know of Justice?! You betrayed us all! You betrayed my mother and our family, you bastard! We loved you and trusted you! We-” 

McCree heard a solid sounds and a sharp cough, no doubt as a Talon Agent kicked her in the stomach, and he started to whirl around, but was answered with the sharp click of the monster pulling back the hammer on his gun. He glared, anger burning in his chest as he stared down the devil, the reaper that held a gun between his eyes. He wasn’t one to be a captive, but he had been in many a stand off. He knew how to hold his ground. 

“As I was saying,” the Reaper growled. “I have come for justice. Against every one that was a part of that hideously laughable excuse of a ‘family.’” The monster took a step closer, and Jesse took a step back. The beast cackled again, shaking it’s head. “You don’t understand Mijo. I’m going to make you all suffer the way you made me suffer. I will make your worst fears a reality. I will not rest until every last sailor on the seas fears me and knows my glory. And what better way to start that than by making an example out of the mighty DeadEye? You always were my favorite, so it seems poetic. But I won’t kill you; no, you would like that too much. It would be too easy.

“Instead,” He growled, taking another step towards McCree. “I’m going to take everything you love from you, and you’re going to watch me do it. I’m going to strip you of everything you have worked for, and then leave you to rot the way you left me. And I am going to love every moment of it. Starting now.”

Without warning, he pulled the gun away from Jesse’s head and pointed it to his side, firing. The scream that broke the night air was murderous, a blood curdling scream of agony, and Jesse felt his heart stop in his throat. He whirled around to see Fareeha crumpled on her side, clutching at her chest as thick dark blood pooled around her, the moon reflecting off its black glassy surface. His ears were ringing and time stopped. He couldn’t breathe, wind punched out of him, and if he screamed, he didn’t register it. He took a step towards her before suddenly there were hands around his neck, cold and sharp, digging into his throat. 

He tried to turn, to fight, to run, but the Reaper was holding him by his throat, grinning maddeningly. The beast pulled Jesse’s face close against his, close enough for him to breath in the smell of rotting meat and salt on his breath, the see the tiny specks of red in the center of his eyes. “I’ll come for you again, Jesse McCree. I will come for you every time, and I will find you no matter how much you run. And I will take everything you love from you. And you will have to live with that and suffer how I have suffered. Consider this your chance at a head start.” 

Before he could fight back, the Reaper hurtled him over the edge of the ship, laughing that same terrible laugh. He fell through the air, tumbling over himself, mind a whirling mess of emotion and pain. He thought he could hear Fareeha scream, maybe his name, he couldn’t be sure. But he did hear the Reaper’s voice, cackling and growling out “DIE! DIE! DIE!” accompanied by gunshots and screams, until finally he hit the water. 

His breath was knocked out of him again, the contact hitting like a gunshot. His body tumbled beneath the waves, caught in the swell of the ocean, and he clawed his way up to the surface instinctually. Fear bubbled in his chest, the fear all sailors have of the black water of the ocean, merciless and unforgiving. He sucked in stomachs full of ocean water as he struggled, weighed down by his heavy clothing, metal arm not assisting in his efforts to swim. When he finally broke the surface, air burned his lungs worse than the salt water did, his lungs fighting to breathe. 

Jesse treaded water for a few moments, thrashing about, trying to regain his senses, when he saw it; before him, standing like a beacon in the night sky, his ship glowed brightly, consumed by fire. He swam towards it frantically, but the waves pulled him away, further and further from the wreckage of his ship. It crumbled in around itself, flames swallowing it up as the fire blazed on. His flag, the skull with the crossed out eye, was eaten away into nothingness, the mast giving a mighty earsplitting creak as it fell into the sea. The entire thing fell around itself, ripping apart from itself as it began to slowly sink into the inky waves, Jesse’s heart sinking along with it. He watched, broken and helpless, as the name on the back, “DEADLOCK”, sunk into the ocean, disappearing forever, his crew and only friend along with it. 

He tread water for god only knows how long, calling out to his crew, to Fareeha, to Gabriel, to God, to anyone that would hear him. No response came. He was only answered by the sounds of the sea, the howling of the wind, and the echo of his own voice off of the water. How long he stayed like that, he didn’t know. At some point, he gave up on anyone replying, simply kicking and holding onto life as best he could. But it never came. Instead, exhaustion set in, eating at his nerves slowly yet surely until he could no longer kick, could no longer put forth the energy to remain afloat. What did it matter? The only family he had left had been robbed from him, along with the crew he’d come to trust, the ship he had come to captain, and all the treasure he had amassed within it. All his life achievements, his life spent working to better himself, had been for nothing. Everything that made him who he was was now gone, swept away by a monster he had once loved and the ocean itself. Jesse McCree was resigned to Death, and welcomed the exhaustion as it threatened his vision and lulled his eyes closed, and consumed his consciousness until only the blackness remained. 

He did not see the shapes beneath the surface of the water that cut through the ocean waves. He was already taken by exhaustion and unconsciousness, unable to see how they circled around him deep beneath the water. How they quarreled with one another, pushing each other out of the way to get a better look at the man floating in the waves, and how his jewelry glittered in the moonlight. Nor did he see the pair of hands that eventually took hold of him, strong and powerful hands that shoved all the others out of the way to claim their prize and drag him down, down beneath the surface. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When he awoke, all he could taste was salt and blood.  
Jesse coughed hard, curling on his side as sea water poured from his lips, gagging hard as he struggled for air. His body burned and ached all over as he sucked in breaths, mind shaking and numb as it struggled to come to its senses. All he could register was the cold and the pain, until slowly the ringing in his ears faded as his lungs began to work again. He laid there on his side, struggling to piece thoughts together as his body struggled to work like normal once more.

What had happened? He fought to remember, mind rattling itself before suddenly it all came back to him all at once. Far too much. Sensory overload. The enemy ship, the battle, the Reaper, Fareeha, the DeadLock sinking into the waves. His breath caught in his throat as the agony, the sorrow, returned. He wanted to cry but wouldn’t allow that of himself; he didn’t deserve to cry, he had no right. McCree curled in around himself, eyes closed tight as he whispered a prayer, quiet and shaky, for Fareeha. He hoped and prayed that somehow she had survived, but part of him quietly knew there was no way. Instead he laid there, letting his emotions tear through him, giving himself time to mourn and hurt. Wherever he was now, be it Heaven or Hell, he could wait a little longer. He needed time. 

And time he took, laying out on the cold ground of wherever he was, until his senses slowly returned to him, emotions subsiding slowly with steady pangs of pain. He could feel the cold roughness of the ground on which he lay, and hear drips echo around him every few seconds. Slowly, he cracked his good eye open, taking in what he could of his surroundings. All he was able to see was rock:, dimly lit, rocky walls. He cocked his head, lifting his upper body to take in more of his surroundings.  
His muscles screamed in protest but he ignored them, continuing to sit up until he was on his knees. He was in what appeared to be some kind of cave, a few thin beams of light streaming through cracks in the ceiling. The dripping sounds were the stalactites dropping water from the roof of the cave above into what appeared to be a lagoon of water. As he looked about, he saw he was on a rocky outcropping at the center of the lagoon, completely surrounded by ocean water that was a gentle blue-green. Despite the small amount of light breaking through the ceiling of the cave, the entire room glowed a gentle gold color. 

The pirate rose to his feet wearily, a laborious task- his long coat and clothes still soaked. He must not be dead, he reasoned (with a fair amount of disappointment), and did an inventory check. He still had his Peacekeeper, but his hat was missing, hair wet and plastered down to his face. His jewelry, the heavy gold rings he had a habit of wearing on each finger of both hands, were gone as well. In addition, his belt and the heavy gold belt buckle he wore with it were gone too. Taken by the sea, he reasoned, before it registered to him there was no way the ocean waves could have gotten all his rings off each finger. Perplexed, he ventured to the edge of the rock on which he stood to get a better view of his surroundings, and nearly fell into the water at what he saw.  
The entire sea floor of the cave was coated in gold; gold coins, gold statues, chests overflowing with jewelry, goblets and gems that shined through the crystal clear water. McCree could make out suits of armor, statues, crowns, all growing lichens and barnacles, but still shining brightly beneath the waves. It was almost too much for the pirate to take in; in all his years and all his adventures, Captain McCree had never seen this much gold in one place. Surely he was dead and this was heaven, for there was no way this could be real. His pain was forgotten, lost to the wonder that lit up his senses like that of a child. He had half a mind to pull of his boots and dive in the water, until a splash from behind him put him on full alert.  
He spun around in an instant, drawing Peacekeeper and firing without a second thought. But the weapon only gave a resounding thud as the hammer fell on wet gunpowder. Jesse was glad it had. For before him, peeking out from the water, he could see two dark glowing eyes staring directly at him. A pool of long dark hair flowed around them, hindering his view of what was beneath it, but he didn’t have to see to know. Finned ears poked out from the inky locks, and the eyes bobbed up and down in the water but never wavered from his face. Jesse’s heart stopped in his chest. Yes, he knew what those eyes meant. He’d been a sailor long enough to know eyes like that; eyes with slits for pupils that glowed like the moon.  
Sirens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this isn't the ending a lot of people wanted, but hey! Now we have no where to go but up! Expect more to come soon, and if you want to talk to me about this, send me an ask @Sake-and-whiskey on Tumblr! Thanks so much for reading y'all, it really means the world to me. Hope you enjoyed!  
> -Samatura
> 
> http://sake-and-whiskey.tumblr.com/  
> http://samatura.tumblr.com/


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The other side of a chance encounter, and the first moments of a new beginning.

The Dragon awakened.

It was the vibrations that woke him, the subtle shaking of the cave walls and the water, steady thuds that made his domain shake. Subtle, small vibrations, but enough to wake the Dragon. He was a light sleeper as it was, a trait born out of necessity rather than choice. Only the strong survived in the Dragon’s world, and he had not lived as long as he had by being hazardous. So the minor shaking of the cave walls, the ripples in the clear waters of his lagoon, woke him at once.

His brown eyes shot open, ready and fully alert, and he listened. Heavy ‘boom’s shook through the sea. The sound of human’s battling, waging war on one another as they rocked across the ocean. The sound of cannon fire, and the thrashing of men struggling in the water. 

The sound of prey. 

The Dragon grinned, running his tongue across his long feral teeth, stomach growling with anticipation. He sat up from his sleeping place, a large outcropping of rock in the center of his lair, and paused only a moment to feel the vibrations once more. Best to be cautious, to fully understand the situation before diving in for an attack. The lesser ones would be there first to devour the unfortunate souls that hit the water. He had no need for business like that. The Dragon could hunt any time he wanted. He could afford cautiousness, to wait and make sure it was not a fishing boat trying to trick his kind into a frenzy so they could be scooped up and sold. Or that it simply was a freighter ship being overrun by pirates, a small affair that was not worth his time. Yes, the Dragon could wait. And indeed, the longer he waited, the more cannon fire he heard, until he was convinced that it was worth his time. Battles did not last this long unless there was a worth to the ships that waged these wars, not unless there was gold to be had within them.

That was worthy of the Dragon’s time.

In a flash, he pushed off the rocky outcropping and into the water, not another second to waste, with the sea welcoming him as he tore through it. His long hair streamed behind him as he shot down, past his scores of treasure and into the deep cave that connected his lair to the open ocean. His long tail whipped behind him, powerful and precise. Not a movement was wasted as he torpedoed through the thin cave and out into the sea, the moonlight filling the waves with a cool white light that filtered down in radiant beams. The smell of blood in the water was strong, intoxicating. He could sense the sharks that were following behind him, attracted equally by the scent of blood, but intelligent enough not to cut him off. They knew whatever he did not take would be theirs, and they were not foolish enough to challenge the Dragon. They knew better.

He swam with purpose, distance falling behind him as he shot through the water. He could sense the others near by, hear them screeching and whispering to themselves, voices high and warbled through the water. They knew better than to challenge him, too. He was the oldest in these lands, and had won his share of battles to claim his territory and earn his rank. There were very few who dared challenge him or taunt him, all knowing what happened to those that stood in his way. 

Very few, indeed, but still an odd some of those who did. One of which he felt coming up on him now, and he scoffed as the other dragon fell at his side. The other dragon was a blur of green out of the corner of his eye, but he knew his brother well. He could smell him and sense him from miles away, and always had an idea of where the younger dragon was. It was their family bond. 

He didn’t spare him a glance, which only made the other dragon chuckle with delight, consciously bumping into him. The older dragon let out a warning snarl, but it was all for show. He would not hurt his brother, not again. And he knew it. Their roles as Alpha and Beta were set already, so there was no need to quarrel over who would better rule their lands. The older dragon had already earned his place as the king of these waters long ago. Even still, the younger dragon would test his patience.

“Did you hear, Hanzo?” He whispered through the water, voice carrying in a way that only creatures of the sea could understand. “Some of the younger ones said that there was a fire, and that a ship has been sunk. They’ve already begun to feed, but there must be some things within the boat itself worth scavenging.” 

Hanzo smirked, shooting his brother a look. “No Genji, I didn’t hear, tell me more.”

The green dragon grinned at him, meeting his eyes with a challenging smirk on his face, a wide row of needle like teeth glinting in the moonlight. “I simply thought it would be best to test your senses, brother. You ARE getting old after all.” 

The older dragon let out a roaring laugh, shoving into his brother playfully, the two tangling over each other in the waves before splitting apart once more, still all smiles. Genji had a way of uplifting Hanzo in a way no one else could, while also challenging him and urging him to grow. The two were the only of their kind in these waters, so they stuck together and ruled as two sides of the same coin. The sly green Sea Dragon, covered in scars from battles with pieces of his tail ripped out, healed over in a strange patchwork of scar tissue and missing scale. His hair was cut short, dark as his brother’s, and his green finned ears were tattered and torn in many places. Nonetheless, he was powerful, tail pounding through the water despite the missing pieces. While his brother ruled the lands, Genji was a powerful second in command, cocky and confident in a way that was completely justified by his ability and intelligence. Where Hanzo was precision and force, Genji was cunning and trickery. They were a perfect- and deadly- combination. 

The two continued their break neck speed through the water until they could see the glow of the ship from above the surface. So there really had been a fire, Hanzo noted, slowing as they drew nearer. He could see the majority of the hull already sloping down past him into the dark depths, only a small portion remaining out of the water as it continued to sink. Whoever had sunk the ship had clearly intended for there to be no survivors. Burning the ship would guarantee that. Surely, he reasoned, there must have been something of value on board, though whether or not the treasure was still there was unlikely. The victor in this battle would have no doubt searched the vessel before setting it aflame. 

An irritating development. That meant there would likely be nothing to salvage, nothing to add to his horde. Hanzo watched as the ship continued to slowly slide into the water, brow furrowed with consideration. Genji also watched silently, glancing at his brother and back at the ship. “Would you like me to check it regardless?” He offered, cocking his head. “It hurts nothing to be sure.” 

Hanzo growled in frustration, but flicked his wrist dismissively. “That seems wise,” He muttered. Genji nodded once, giving a powerful flick of his tail before he was off, shooting towards the sinking boat. As he left, Hanzo turned, his attention switching to the warbled screams and shrieks of the others that fought near by. They were similar creatures to he and his brother, but not the same. Their race was a complex one, with many branches and subsects. He was of their kind, but very different. Still, they knew him, and respected his power within their home. He started towards them, radiating confidence and power.

The other sea folk were struggling with one another, bickering and quarreling amongst themselves. They came in flocks, probably thirty of different sizes and breeds. Some were beautiful, with the faces and bodies of women that spoke in song. Others had eyes that were pale and hollow, needle teeth hanging over their lips while they argued in voices that were painfully high and distorted. Others still looked like a combination, bodies completely covered in scales, like anthropomorphic fish, combinations of humanoid beings and sharks or eels. Yet they all turned when the Sea Dragon came upon them, reactions mixed. Some bowed their heads, others scowled and hissed, a few smiling brightly and giving him warm eyes of seduction. Their welcomes did not matter to Hanzo. He had come for information. 

“What goes on here?” He asked, voice commanding and strong. A siren, one of the beautiful women of the sea, pushed forward, biting her lip and looking him over as she spoke. 

“My sisters and I came because of the noise, looking for food. But the hags beat us to it,” She scowled at the wrinkled sea creature nearest to her, who had been gnawing on a human arm. “They tore nearly all of them to shreds, mangled them and didn’t even eat some, just ruined them for the rest of us.”  
Hanzo shot the deep sea maid a dark look. “Is this so?”

“NO!” the creature wailed, clutching at the arm in its taloned fingers. “They reached the water in pieces, my lord. There is black magic in the air, we would not be wasteful, we know better, we know!”  
“So she CLAIMS,” The siren growled back, face losing its beauty as rage distorted her features. “But she hides the survivor for herself! She won’t even eat him, she just keeps him from the rest of us!”

“Survivor?” Hanzo rebuffed, and the sea hag nodded profusely.  
“Yes my lord! I saved him for you! Come, Come!” she cried, releasing the arm to take a hold of Hanzo, tiny pruned fingers clutching at his wrist. “He still lives!” 

They all followed after her, swimming slowly through the dark seas with caution. A survivor was a dangerous thing, a threat and a treasure all at once. The sirens would want him to breed, to steal him of his manhood and seed in order to increase their clan. The scavengers would want him to play with, to teach their young to slaughter. The deep sea maids had no purpose for him really other than to feed, to survive. All had their own right to the survivor, and would no doubt tear each other apart for that right if Hanzo had not been there. Because they all knew he had the right to choose what became of the human before any other.

And there he was. Floating amidst the waves, Hanzo could see his legs barely moving as he struggled to stay afloat. His hands tread the water only barely, the fight clearly gone from the man. They swam around him slowly beneath the waves, taking in every inch of his lower body, his head still barely floating above the surface. Hanzo felt a pang of possessiveness flair through his being when he saw the jewelry that glittered on his fingers, shining gold even in pale light of the moon. He had jewelry all over him, a belt buckle that shined brightly, a sword and gun at his hip that all glinted in the water. Hanzo knew the other’s saw it too, and wanted those treasures as badly as he did, but none spoke. None moved. Had he been younger, much younger, and foolish, he would have probably tried to eat him on the spot, strip his of his possessions and leave his remains for the scavengers. But the Sea Dragon was ancient, and wise. He knew better. 

And all of the sea folk could feel the energy on him. The magic that covered his body and clung to him in ways nothing else could. Dark magic that whispered to any tuned in to hear it. A warning, a message that scarred his skin with no physical mark, but radiated from him. All the sea folk knew exactly what that meant. 

“He is cursed,” The sirens whispered to one another quietly, sing-song voices marred by the evil word. The sea hag hissed, laughing with a sound of only dry air.  
“Do you still wish to have him?” She shrieked, and the siren leader only gave her a warning look in response. 

Hanzo said nothing, eyes on the stranger, curious. What could this man have done to be cursed in such a way? It had been a long time since he had seen magic such as this, magic permanent and bound to the soul with nothing but evil intent. Who could this human have angered so to reap this punishment? He eyed the man once more, waiting until his legs stopped moving altogether, before slowly breaking away from the circling group, up towards the surface.

He broke through the water silently, only his eyes poking out, cautious. A clear eyelid glossed over his pupils, pushing the water away as his eyes adjusted to the oxygen above. And there he was, head bobbing in the water before him. His face was weathered and worn, dark skin glowing in the pale moonlight. One of his eyes was hidden by a dark eyepatch, and a scruffy beard, much longer than Hanzo’s well kept facial hair was matted and unruly. A hat was slipping off his head, and dark shaggy hair clung to the high plains of his cheekbones, covering part of his face. He was unconscious, mouth open slightly, the sea water slipping past his lips.

He was absolutely beautiful.

That same possessiveness clawed at his chest, gnawed at his bones. What an interesting human this was, beautiful unlike any Hanzo had ever seen before, yet cursed and left in the sea to die. What had he done to put him here? He was a pirate, surely, and one with wealth enough to adorn himself in ornaments as he did. In all his years, Hanzo had never encountered a sailor with a curse like this. How unique, how rare. The same need to own, to collect, that drove Hanzo on in search of gold and treasure spoke to him now. He would never again find a man like this. And what was he to do, leave him here? With a curse like this, no one would eat him, no one would go near him. He would be left to the scavengers, to the sharks. No, he could not leave him, and he did not want to. The Dragon was the ruler of these waters, and he could have whatever he wanted. And he wanted the man.  
He sunk back into the water, a chorus of whispers suddenly coming to a halt. Without a word, he swam up to the sailor, taking a fistfull of his long coat in his arms, and dragged him beneath the surface. The voices started up again in an instant, questions and shrieks he paid no mind to as he left the sea folk behind, throwing the human over his shoulder as he snapped his tail and tore through the water once more. He cut through the water quickly, ignoring the commotion he had created behind him. Hanzo did not want to think on his decision, did not want to reflect on why it was a bad idea to add a cursed human to his collection. He did not need to justify his choices. He was the Dragon. He saw what he wanted and claimed it. That was his right. 

Hanzo heard his brother coming up behind him, felt the pounding of his tail through the water before he heard him speak. The younger dragon had an edge to his voice as he sped along next to his brother, confusion evident. “Hanzo,” He began, cautiously. “What are you doing with the human?”

“Is it not obvious?” He snapped back, which made Genji chuckle.  
“It is,” He began again, grinning slyly. “But I was more so asking why you have suddenly taken an interest?”

Hanzo shot his brother a look, before giving him a grin of his own. “Look at him, brother. Tell me you do not see the cause of my sudden interest.” 

Genji outright guffawed, cackling in a sound that was breathy and bubbled from his lips. “I see,” He grinned, licking his razor sharp teeth. “I can’t say I disagree with you.” 

Hanzo smirked triumphantly, turning his attention away from his brother and back towards where he swam. They tore through a graveyard of ship pieces and rocky fixtures, until the entrance to Hanzo’s lair came into view. Genji slipped behind his brother, following him into the narrow sea cave, eyeing up the man that was unconscious over his shoulder. His hat flew off as Hanzo darted around a corner, and Genji grabbed it quickly, clutching it to his chest as they broke from the cave into the glittering expanse of Hanzo’s cave. 

The two shot to the surface, and Hanzo quickly threw the human onto the rocky island in the center of his lagoon. He lifted himself onto the rocks beside him, with Genji following close behind, shimmying his way up onto the edge to watch with intense interest. Hanzo dragged himself close to the man, looking him over once more. 

Now that he had more time, he could see so much about the man he had not been able to before. A few wrinkles cornered his exposed eye, warm laugh lines that illustrated age and experience. He had multiple faint scars on his cheeks and down his neck, too light to see without being extremely close. Beneath his large coat, he wore a tunic with a long collar, dark chest hair peeking from under the dingy fabric. Hanzo reached out a hand but hesitated a moment, before finally letting his clawed fingers drag across the human’s skin. 

It was cold, but not as cold as his own. No, he could feel the warmth beneath his skin, the faint beating of his heart and the weak pumping of his veins. His skin gave under the pressure of Hanzo’s claws, soft and tender to the touch. ‘Remarkable,’ he thought. How long had it been since he had touched a human that he had not been eating? He could not remember. He leaned in close, his face inches from the man’s, breathing in his scent. He smelled of blood, of sweat, of tobacco, and of other spices Hanzo had not smelled in centuries.

“Is he breathing?” Genji’s voice startled him, and he turned to look at his brother. The young dragon was laying on his side, half his tail hanging in the water, propped up on one arm to watch. On his head, he wore the ridiculous hat the human had been wearing before. When had he even gotten that? Hanzo had no idea, but he scoffed at the image of his brother, which only made Genji grin before remembering his words and reiterating them. “Humans need to breathe air, yes? Is he breathing?”

An important question that Hanzo had overlooked. He turned back to the man, pressing his ear to his chest, and listened. A faint heartbeat, but his chest did not rise and fall. He knew how human’s breathed; he had to as a hunting skill in order to properly drown them. So he knew that this was a dangerous sign if he intended to keep the human alive. He flipped the man over, rolling him onto his stomach, and shoved down on his back, trying to figure out the best way to get the water out of his body. He pushed a few times, hard and fast, until the human coughed, water flying from his mouth and onto the rock. 

Hanzo sat back, impressed with himself, as the human continued to gag and wheeze, water pouring from his lips, until he collapsed back onto himself. Crawling over to him once more, Hanzo laid his head on his back, listening intently. The heartbeat was still there, and now he could feel the rise and fall of the man’s labored breathing. He laid there for a moment, feeling the warmth of the man’s skin and the sway of his body. He had never experienced anything like this before. Never in his years had he ever felt the heat of another’s body. Any creature beneath the waves was as cold as he was, so this warmth was entirely foreign. It was.... pleasing.

He pulled away to roll the man onto his back again, laying his head on his chest. He was a beautiful one, he thought. More beautiful than any of the statues or figures he had in his collection. ‘And cursed’, he remembered, feeling that same sickly energy pouring from his skin, which made him only that much more collectable. He was by far the most exotic of Hanzo’s possessions. 

 

Genji flicked his tail in the water restlessly, drawing Hanzo’s attention back to him. “I have to say, brother,” He smirked, licking his lips. “I am a bit jealous. He’s a very attractive addition to your horde. Are you sure I can’t have him?”  
Hanzo scoffed, sitting up to look at the other. “You can if you are willing to fight me for it,” He challenged, flashing his fangs in cocky smile.  
The younger dragon laughed, shaking his head. “It is probably best if we don’t do that. I’m not looking to get beaten again. I’ll leave you to your new toy then,” He sneered, sliding off the rock and into the water, hat still on his head. “I’m going to go hunt. I’ll bring you something back.” Hanzo nodded his thanks, attention already falling back on the human, and Genji sunk back into the sea.

He looked him over once more, cocking his head as he turned his attention to the jewelry that had initially caught his eye. Hanzo lifted his hand, eyeing up the heavy gold rings encrusted with gems that glittered on every finger, eyes narrowing in delight. He slid them off individually, letting them stack in his palms, noting how large and calloused the man’s hand was. The hands of a sailor, most certainly. He let the hand drop, eyeing up the prizes in his hands, and eagerly reached for the other, only to stop once he had it in his grasp, drawing back. Where the first hand had been warm, this one was icy cold, and had been an unwelcome shock. He eyed it cautiously before picking it up again, turning it in his hand. His eyes widened in surprise as he realized the entire thing was metal. Metal fingers, metal palm, metal hand. He had never seen anything like it before. Each metal finger had a heavy ring just like the human hand, but they were wedged on tight, and much harder for Hanzo to pry off without damaging the metal. Yet he eventually did, a stack of ten gold rings glittering in his palms. 

He shuffled away from the human for a moment, sliding back into the water and down to the sea floor where his collection laid. It was an outstanding horde, built up over centuries with countless riches. Everything was organized and had a place. There was a section of statues, a section of chests, gold coins covering the entirety of the sea floor. Wedged between two large chests was a mirror, cracked and tarnished in places, but still well maintained. A marble bust of a woman sat perched next to it, necklaces of pearl and gold hanging from her neck. Laid out beside her was a whale tooth comb, crowns, tiaras, and a collection of jewelry and rings. Hanzo carefully laid the rings out on the top, folding his arms proudly as he glanced at himself in the mirror, nodding with content.

The Dragon was beautiful in his own regard. His hair flowed around his head in a dark cloud, framing his regal cheekbones and strong jaw. Dark eyes stared back at him, and he flashed a smile, fanged teeth glinting back at him. A well maintained beard covered his jaw, and aside from his face, his body was hair free. His body reflected that of the statues carved from marble that stood proudly around him; Pale and perfect, all hard edges and chiseled muscle. A powerful warrior. A king.

It was then he heard him stirring, felt the vibrations of his movements on the rocks. Hanzo’s heart jumped in anticipation, and he hesitated, wondering what to do. His human would be confused, he reasoned as he slowly floated up to the surface, staying just beneath it and gazing up through the distorted glassy surface. He steadied himself, building up his courage, before slowly rising from the water, crawling up ever so slightly on the bank, observing. 

The man was curled around himself, coughing and whispering to himself, coughing and gagging every now and again. The words he spoke were foreign, but Hanzo listened and recognized the language as English, a tongue he had not spoken in a long time but knew well enough. He had been alive too long to not learn the languages of man, and could adjust quickly. He strained to make out what was being said, but couldn’t, the words barely more than a breath. So instead Hanzo waited, watching silently as the human laid there, shaking and holding himself, pain and sorrow radiating from him. Hanzo wondered what had happened, but recalling how the ship had been destroyed, assumed that the human had gone through much. He would wait.

Eventually the human sat up, looking about before slowly rising to his feet. Hanzo pursed his lips as he looked at his back, wanting to see more of him, but waiting patiently. He watched the man check for his hat and nearly laughed, remembering how Genji had swam off with it, and then look at his ringless fingers. Then he watched him step over to the water’s edge, only to gasp and take a stumbling step back. Hanzo felt his heart swell with pride. This was a pirate, of course he would appreciate Hanzo’s vast collection! He had every right to after all. Hanzo had spent hundreds of years building it to be absolutely perfect, and the way the human gaped in awe made him shudder with pleasure, tail flicking in the water with delight.

A mistake.

The moment the human heard the sound of the water, Hanzo shoved off the rocks and into the sea, right as the man spun around, weapon in the air. The resounding ‘clack’ of the gun was one Hanzo had heard many times, when his prey tried to fight back but couldn’t, weapons waterlogged from sea water. The Dragon peered up from the water, only the top of his head up to his eyes peering out from the surface, tensed, waiting. The human stared back at him, mouth agape, eyes darting around as he took in the sight of Hanzo. Their eyes locked on one another, and Hanzo saw for the first time that the human’s were as dark as his, a shining brown. They sat there for a moment, frozen in time and space, locked in their silent assessment of the other. Hanzo saw the realization in the human’s eyes, watched him understand exactly what he was. And Hanzo in return stared at the man before him, gun drawn and chest heaving, and realized he had made the perfect decision in claiming him as his own.

There were no words. What was there to say? Hanzo could wait forever. He would not be the one to make the first move. He was patient. Slowly he watched the man lower his weapon, arm hanging at his side, face still painted with shock. “Now,” he told himself, slowly drawing nearer to the bank of the rocks, slow and cautious, testing the air between them. The human took a step back, and he stopped once more, waiting, until slowly he started to move again. This time the human stayed, and he took that as an encouragement, floating through the water until he hit the bank and slowly reached up, grabbing hold of the rock. He heard the man take a sharp breath, but he paid it no mind, pushing himself out of the water and onto the rocks. 

That was all he did, stopping once he could sit on the edge of the rock, the lower half of his tail disappearing into the water. He sat poised, a safe distance from the man, but continued to stare at him, eyes never wavering. The human whispered something to himself, a prayer again, but this time in another language. Spanish perhaps, Hanzo couldn’t be sure. He stared at the human across the rocks, waiting. Water rolled from his long hair that painted his back and shoulders, down onto the contours of his chest, shining in the moonlight. He could hear the man’s breathing, shallow and shaking, and could faintly hear the thudding of his heart. He was nervous. Good. Let him be.

On the other side of the rock, McCree stared at the siren with wide eyes. He had only ever heard legends of these creatures, heard how they stole sailors from the sea and used them as fuck dolls before tearing them apart, but of course he’d never seen one. He’d only ever heard of them as gorgeous naked women who wanted nothing more than to rip men to shreds. Yet here he was, staring down a man with fins in place of ears and a tail where his legs ought to be. And what a man, he noted, taking in the sight of him. He had never heard tales of sirens being men, but the legends were definitely right in saying they were gorgeous. An adaptation, he had heard, to make men weak in their presence and more easily wooed. Well, this siren was making McCree weak alright. It was hypnotic, the power he held in his gaze, the air of raw strength and masculinity laced with an air of pure beauty. 

He tried to speak but words failed him, fighting to find his tongue. The creature didn’t budge, still staring him down. Jesse coughed, clearing his throat before finally words worked their way up his throat and into the air.

“He-Hello,” he stuttered, reaching to take his hat off and hold it to his chest but grasping at air, quickly running his fingers through his hair to play it off, hand resting on the back of his neck. “Did you bring me here? Did you save me, beautiful?” He took a step closer, slow and cautious, and the siren did not move. “Aw, hell, you can’t understand me.” He muttered, looking away. 

“I understand you,” the man answered, voice strong and commanding. Jesse turned back instantly, mouth opened in shock. 

If his eyes had been hypnotic, his voice was a dream. It was powerful and low, and hung in the air like a whisper in the dark. There was meaning and grace behind each word, melodic in a strange way. Jesse felt his heart skip a beat, unable to hide the excited smile that crossed his face. “O-Oh! That’s right as rain, that is. I’m lucky. Did you bring me here, angel? Did you save me?” 

The dragon cocked his head, a sly smile playing his lips that lit a fire in McCree’s core. This was siren magic, it must have been, but damned if he cared. Reyes had already taken everything from him, why not get one last hurrah at the hands of a siren before it killed him? What a way to die. When he spoke again, McCree felt a shudder run through his spine.

“What makes you confident you have been saved?” He crooned, flashing that smile of razor teeth.

McCree swallowed hard, eyes landing on the siren’s lips, trying to find a response before the siren laughed, brassy and rich like the ringing of bells, too much. 

“Well I…. I supposed I ain’t so confident now,” He conceded, which was apparently the right answer, because the siren gave him another grin, eyes narrowing. Jesse was sure he would have been terrified were it not for the beauty of the man before him, and the way his eyes seemed to reach out to him, inviting. 

“That is probably a wise choice,” The siren chuckled, batting his eyes. 

“If that’s the case,” Jesse began, shuffling slightly. “Why even bother bringing me here? What’s the point of keepin’ me alive?” 

Hanzo paused for a moment, considering, before tilting his head with a grin, lifting a clawed hand and gesturing the man forward. There was only a moment’s pause before he obeyed, slowly making his way towards the siren that was perched on the rocky shore. He stopped as he stood before him, heart pounding wildly in his chest. The siren looked up at him, grinning darkly, before he spoke. 

“Because,” He growled. “I saved your life. It belongs to me now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your support! I'm really excited about the response to this, and I'm so glad y'all like it so much. I have a lot more planned, but it probably won't come out as quickly as two nights in a row, so stay patient with me. But who knows!  
> I love comments and feedback, so feel free to leave it!  
> If you have any questions, ideas, or comments about this AU and it's world, shoot me a message at either of my blogs:  
> http://sake-and-whiskey.tumblr.com/  
> http://samatura.tumblr.com/
> 
> Thanks so much y'all!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little give, and a little take.

Jesse McCree had been in his fair share of stand offs, but none had ever been quite as tense as this. 

He sat on one side of the rock outcropping, the Dragon on the other, and the two simply watched each other. Every time Jesse tried to speak, it was met with silence, and this had gone on for hours. He could feel his nerves twitching in anticipation, waiting for something, anything, to happen. But the dragon was still as stone, eyes fixed, never blinking, as he stared at McCree. 

“So, we just gonna sit here all day?” He said smoothly, trying to act nonchalant as he spread his legs, leaning forward while giving an exaggerated yawn. “I ain’t one for standin’ around, ya know. I ain’t a statue.” 

But the dragon said nothing, eyes still narrowed and locked on the pirate. McCree sighed, reaching up to pull on his hat but feeling nothing once more. He grunted in annoyance, choosing to instead run a hand through his hair, though his gaze never left the dragon’s. He wouldn’t be the one to back down.

Across from him, Hanzo sat motionless, sharp glare fixed. He didn’t speak a word, didn’t have to. He was a patient creature, and he would show his human the rules that came with being a part of his horde. It would be too easy to rip him apart or tear into him. Humans were weak creatures that could break with even a fraction of his strength. So Hanzo had opted to show him the rules this way, until he apologized or conceded in any way. He was hard-headed and determined not to, something that intrigued Hanzo even further, but he would not win this. Hanzo was patient. He could wait. 

 

It had started because McCree had dared challenge the dragon.

“I saved your life. It belongs to me now.” He had growled hours ago, grinning up at the human who stood so close to him. He had wanted the man to understand his situation, to accept his new fate as a belonging of the great dragon. But of course he had not taken to it as easily as Hanzo had anticipated. 

Instead he had laughed, cocking his head to the side while giving the dragon a somewhat amused smile. “Does it now?” He had chuckled, which had made Hanzo irrationally angry in the blink of an eye. “I reckon if that’s the rule, you’ll have to wait in line. I owe my life to a lot of people.” 

The dragon’s brows furrowed in confusion. He paused, measured his words carefully, before he spoke again. “No, I do not believe I will wait on anything. I saved your life, and you belong to me. It is a simple trade off.” 

The pirate scratched his head, opening his mouth to speak before stopping once more. What was he supposed to say in this kind of situation? He wasn’t one for taking commands, and had no plans of submitting to a life as an object. But what other choice did he have? He didn’t know where he was, didn’t have any food or fresh water, and was without a ship or crew. He was at the mercy of the dragon. The fact he hadn’t been eaten yet was already a blessing, though how blessed he was given the events of the last 48 hours he couldn’t quite figure. Was he supposed to resign to this life as the belonging of a sea creature? Even if he had the means to escape, he didn’t know where to go. He could hardly swim, as that skill was not one most sailors were ever given the luxury of learning, and his metal arm was a massive hinderance when it came to treading water. Surely, if he tried to escape, the dragon would chase him down. If Gabriel didn’t first. 

The thought made him shudder. No, not Gabriel. The demon, the wraith of death, the Reaper he had become. The beast had sworn to track him down and take everything from him as long as he lived. What else was there for him to take? He had taken his ship, his crew, his only friend in the world. Save his gold, there was nothing left for him to take. But then, he had probably taken the gold too, he thought with irritation as he glanced at his naked fingers, normally adorned in beautiful filigree. Jesse had nothing left but his drenched clothes, his gun, and the fading legend of the dreaded Deadeye, which would no doubt be tarnished and forgotten to the sea when word came that he had been conquered by the Reaper. He would become another casualty of the life of a pirate, and his legend would be forgotten. He had nothing left. 

The thought made his heart, empty and cold, sink in his chest. He had turned away from the dragon then, and walked back to the other side of the shore, dropping down to sit on the cold rock. What point was there in arguing, he wondered. What purpose was there in playing the dragon’s game when life had no meaning? The best he could hope for was doing nothing, something, anything all at once. He couldn’t decide if it would be easier to anger the dragon so it would just eat him and be done with it, or to do nothing so it would get bored of him and end his life then. Whatever the case, he could wait. Jesse McCree had been in his share of standoffs before, he was a patient man. He could wait it out. 

Or so he had thought. But he had underestimated the dragon, a beast to whom time was lost. They had sat for about an hour, staring at each other, the beast never blinking as it simply watched him. If Jesse didn’t know better, he would have thought he was carved from marble, a perfect immovable work of art, poised on the rock, watching silently. The first hour he was resigned, determined to wait out the dragon and accept the death that would no doubt come. He thought of his life, mulled over the mistakes and burdens of his past. He prayed at one point. The air was somber, the kind in which sorrow dripped from the stalactite of the cave top down onto the two locked in a motionless struggle. After the second hour, he was confident he was ready to face a death that would come any minute. He was empty, heart numb and body cold, determined to take his death with honor and dignity.

Yet death never came.

As the third hour ticked by, the air changed. Jesse became restless, fingers itching for movement, and a slow irritation building as to why the dragon continued to simply stare. He moved, shifting his weight around, posture slipping. The fourth hour was when he started talking, making basic conversation, asking questions of the merman before him, trying to get a reaction. He wouldn’t apologize, and wouldn’t give in, would not allow himself to be claimed by the beast, but he tried to talk him into irritation (a skill Jesse was very good at), yet to no avail. 

And now, in the fifth hour, Jesse was annoyed, but numb, exhausted by the events of the day. He had lost so much, been thrown into a world he didn’t know existed at the hands of a siren, and was losing the strength and resolve to fight if it meant that something would happen. Maybe what needed to happen was to give an inch, he reasoned, just an inch. Not a full concession, but to budge ever so slightly. That would be good enough.

He cleared his throat, gathering his words before speaking, slowly. “Listen,” he began. “I appreciate you saving my life, and I understand I owe you a debt. I may be a stubborn son of a bitch, but I won’t deny you that right. I just ain’t so keen on bein’ owned by anything… anyone,” he corrected quickly, glancing at the siren’s tail before making eye contact once more. “And I’m tryin’ to wrap my head around the situation. I’ve had a rough day, and I didn’t mean to insult ya. I’m only human.” 

This was what the dragon needed. He understood this kind of chase; the kind in which blows were slow and progress was built gradually. The human would need to be broken slowly until he knew his place here. The dragon would humor him until he bent to his will, but it would happen willingly. He didn’t need the human to bow before him; No, he didn’t want him to. It had been a long, long time since he had been intrigued by a man the way he was by this one. He was fascinating, his history a mystery, his curse an enigma. No, Hanzo did not want him to be broken easily. It was the idea of steadily conquering the human that excited him. And this was a fine first step.

“Only human indeed,” the dragon said, his voice low and deep, and hid his amusement at the way the human lit up from his response. Yes, a fine first step. 

The pirate smiled brightly, nodding quickly. “Aye, I’m but a man, so you’ll have to understand if I don’t respond so warmly to the concept of being a belonging. I ain’t some piece of cattle to be owned, savvy?” 

The dragon paused, thinking a moment, before a gentle sound bubbled from his lips, quiet at first before blossoming into rich, warm laughter. The sound was a shock to McCree’s ears, an unexpected blessing, and it made his insides smolder. The dragon shook his head, flashing a smile of sharp teeth. “You think that is what you are to me, human? A piece of meat to be devoured? A toy? A thing to be played with?” 

Jesse felt his cheeks flush slightly, and he scratched the back of his neck. “Well I… I hadn’t really considered it,” He lied, trying to push the thoughts he’d had of the siren eating him only hours before to the back of his mind. 

Hanzo smirked, running his tongue across his fangs as he gave the pirate a once over, shaking his head. “As pleasant of a concept as that is, no. That is not what you are to me.” 

McCree swallowed, his heart skipping a beat. There it was again, that siren magic, no doubt. “Then, ah, what am I?” He asked, almost too quickly. 

The dragon’s eyes lit up, pride swelling in his chest, and he gestured around them. “Do you not see where you are, human? Have you not seen the glory that lies around you?” Jesse followed his sweeping gesture, once again taking in the piles of gold that peaked from the water, mind traveling back to the image of the horde of it lying beneath the waves that surrounded him. 

“You are all of this, and then some. You are so much more than a toy or an object, human. You are a treasure. A rare and unique piece to add to my collection. The others would degrade you into something to toy with, to eat, just another meal, but I saw your potential and claimed you.” His face was painted in pride and confidence, arms raised at his side. “I saved your life, human, because I have never seen one like you. It is rare for me to spare one of your kind, but I did. Consider that my gift to you.” 

The dragon spoke with an eloquence years beyond Jesse, words spoken like an actor possessed by the beauty of his role, and it was nerve wracking. Never in his life had anyone spoken of him this way, and it made his every nerve in his body light up. He shuddered slightly, the power of the words nearly pleasurable but also too much when partnered with the commanding stare and presence of the siren. 

Jesse tried to find words, but they failed him for a moment, voice cracking before he cleared his throat and tried again. “That’s… Well, I reckon that’s much different than what I was thinkin’. Heh, ain’t nobody called me a treasure before. ‘Spose I don’t really know what to say to that.” He said, scratching the back of his neck and looking away from the dragon once more. 

Another good step, Hanzo noted. “The men of the surface are fools. They do not have the eye for riches I do. I only take the best works for my collection.” 

McCree turned back to the siren, nodding slightly. “It’s a mighty fine treasure trove, that’s for certain. I only got a peek of it before ya startled me. Reckon I ain’t never seen so much gold in one place in all my years.”

Hanzo smiled again proudly. If anyone could understand the vast glory of his collection, it would be a pirate. The two had a shared interest in that regard, he thought, thinking back to the beautiful rings he had taken from the human while he was unconscious. They both had an eye for riches and gold. The dragon paused, thinking a moment before speaking again. “Would you like a better look?”

“Beg pardon?” Jesse asked, cocking his head and raising an eyebrow. 

“My horde,” Hanzo clarified, gesturing to the turquoise water that glittered around them. “Would you like a better look at it?” 

“O-oh,” He stuttered, looking at the water. “Well, I, uh, I can think of a few reasons I shouldn’t.” He laughed nervously.

The dragon’s smile fell slightly, and he gave the pirate an inquisitive look. “And why is that?” He asked, irritation thinly veiled in his tone. 

‘Because I’m not convinced you don’t wanna eat me?’ Jesse reasoned to himself. ‘Because I was attacked by a literal devil not 24 hours ago and now I’m bein’ held captive by a merman, and I don’t exactly know what to do in this situation? Because I don’t trust a sailor I don’t know at the pub if he looks at me funny, let alone a siren who claims they own me? And that’s not even considering the fact that-

“I don’t know how to swim,” He finished out loud, not making eye contact with the siren as he did it. “It’s, uh, not really a skill I ever picked up. Most of us don’t. Swimmin’ just prolongs the inevitable if you fall in the sea, ain’t no way you’ll make it back to shore and yer body won’t let you stop til yer exhausted. ‘S better to just drown and be done with it. So I never learned. I can tread water alright, but that’s about it.” 

The dragon seemed perturbed by this information, and said nothing for a moment. This made sense, he reasoned, with why the sailors he had hunted in the past simply thrashed a while before going limp in the waves, but he had always chalked that up to exhaustion. This new realization made sense, a new aspect of human culture he had never considered. An interesting side effect of owning a human would no doubt be learning much. It had been years since he had last spoken to or cared to learn from humans, and it had been in a different ocean. Their society had changed greatly in that time, and he found himself eager to learn more.

Still, the inability to swim would be a difficult obstacle to overcome. In fact, the more he considered it, the more the dragon began to realize there were many obstacles that came with owning a human. They were fragile creatures, easy to break. They required food and water daily, fresh water that would be hard to procure. They were warm blooded creatures that could not handle the cold or the heat, picky about temperature and weather patterns. He remembered the pickiness of man well from the years of his youth. It was something that he had not cared for then, but found to be a great inconvenience now. The gods only knew what else he was forgetting.

The more he thought about the needs of the human, and the difficulty with which it would be to acquire them, the more irritated the dragon became. If the human could only swim, he could at least attempt to assist Hanzo in the endeavour of keeping him alive, but no, apparently even that was too much to ask. He could feel a growl of annoyance building in his throat, and he fought to swallow it down, though his words came out sharp and pointed as he spoke to the human.

“Is it not more of an inconvenience to not know? I know the men of the surface are brash, but to dance along the waves when one false step would send you to your grave seems more than reckless. It is a death wish,” He spat, brows furrowed.

McCree was taken aback by the sudden harshness with which the dragon spoke, and he felt his chest tighten as he glowered back at the beast. “I don’t know what you reckon we should do instead. Life is too short to be spent on the land. The sea is just as much mine to wander as it is yours.” He shot back, getting defensive in spite of himself. 

“Oh, is it?” The dragon sneered, tilting his head. “You think creatures born with legs and lungs have the same right to the sea as I?” Hanzo leaned forward, glowing eyes burning into McCree’s. “I was made for the ocean. I was created for the water and the waves, I was raised to rule them. You simply galavant across them intent to claim everything as your own, as all surface men do. You are all alike, seeking to control absolutely everything. But the sea has no masters, it can not be claimed by any one being. The ocean is not a kind creature, she destroys and conquers as she sees fit. The creatures of land were not created to know the sea, so how can you sit here and dare claim to have to have as much a right to it as I?”

The human narrowed his eyes, metal fingers twitching instinctively, itching for his pistol. No human would ever dare talk to the mighty Deadeye that way and live to tell the tale. But the dragon was no human, and had no fear of the man before him. “You think I ain’t earn the right to ocean? You think it’s yours to own?” He growled, voice low and rough, spoken sandpaper. “I know the ocean ain’t made for us land dwellers, but that only shows how strong we are, how confident and powerful we can be. We aren’t made for the ocean, she don’t want us, but still we venture out into the unknown. The sea is content to kill us, to swallow us up and spit nothing out, to devour us without a hint of remorse, and we love ‘er anyways. The ocean is our home, she calls to us any time our boots hit soil, whispers sweet nothin’s in our ears until we come a’runnin’ because there ain’t no freedom like being out on the waves. And don’t you, don’t nobody have the right to take that freedom away from me, or say I have no right to it.” 

“So you say,” Hanzo snapped, throwing his arm out to gesture to the glittering water behind them. “But to not know something so simple as swimming, something so vital to the sea herself, is a pathetic excuse for someone who claims to love her. It’s weak, and I have no room for weakness.”

“I didn’t ASK to be here,” Jesse shot back, tone rising with the rage building in his chest. 

Hanzo gaped, snarling loudly. “You ungrateful heathen! What would you have prefered, human?! That I leave you to die in the waves, to be eaten and ripped apart?! I give you this opportunity to continue your miserable existence, yet you insist on refusing me, on denying my claim? I saved your life!” He shouted, voice booming across the rocks.

“Oh bull-SHIT!” McCree groaned, rolling his eyes and lashing back at the dragon. “You talk all big like savin’ me was some big service, like you did me a favor by makin’ me some paperweight in your fuckin’ collection. Well, let me tell you, I ain’t belong to no-body, no-how. I spent my whole fuckin’ life listenin’ to other people, followin’ orders and doin’ what I was told. I fought for my freedom, I earned that right, and no one’s gonna take it from me, not until the day I die. I ain’t gonna kiss your ass just cause you decided to fish me out of the water. More honor in death, far as I’m concerned, than bein’ trapped in a life without freedom.” He said, voice lowering as he finished, turning away.

The dragon was seething, muscles tensed and body poised to strike. He had to hold himself back from lunging at the human and ripping him apart right then, gripping the jagged stone he was perched upon so hard it cracked beneath his webbed fingers, but he couldn’t help but scream. “YOU ARE AS MUCH OF A FOOL AS ALL THE OTHER SURFACE MEN! Do you think you are in a position to argue with me?! You breathe now only because I allowed it! Yet you act as though you would have preferred death!” 

McCree whipped his head back to face the dragon, face painted in fury. “MAYBE BECAUSE I WOULD HAVE PREFERRED DEATH! Did you consider that?! Did it ever cross yer mind that maybe I had accepted my fate and what came with it?! The ocean is the only love I’ve known in my entire god damn life, it’s only right I die by her! Who the fuck are you to take that away from me? You think you did me some giant fuckin’ favor savin’ my life? Did it ever cross your mind I might have been HAPPY TO DIE?!”  
His words echoed off the stone walls of the cave, fading out until only the dripping of water in the distance filled the air. Their eyes were locked on each other, rage burning in Jesse’s heart as he stared down the dragon. Yet another power struggle, but not one he would be willing to budge on. This was too much, had become so much more than what Hanzo had intended. The human’s chest heaved, breath shaky and shallow, but he would not look away. His brown eyes burned like a fire, but Hanzo could see the pain that hid beneath them. He was determined to stay strong, to not bend to the will of the dragon without a fight. Beneath the anger he felt pounding in his own heart, he could feel a swell of interest, of understanding, of respect. 

He had underestimated the human. He would not do so again. 

Wordlessly, the dragon slid off the rocks, pushing himself into the turquoise waves that lapped at the jagged shore. Jesse watched him silently, the two never breaking eye contact as the siren’s body disappeared into the waves. He paused only when just the top of his head peeked from the water, hair fanned out on the ocean’s surface. They stayed there a moment, gaze never faltering, until finally the dragon sunk beneath the waves, disappearing for a moment until a large serpentine tail broke the surface. He gave a powerful kick, sending water erupting all over the rocky outcropping and showering Jesse in a rain of freezing salt water, and then he was gone. 

McCree sat for a moment after shaking off the initial shock of the cold water, letting his heart rate slow and his breathing return to normal. With the siren gone, he was alone in the vast emptiness of the cave, accompanied only by the streams of moonlight and the gentle sound of water dropping onto the glassy surface of the sea surrounding him. Alone at last, he let out a heavy sigh, and the events of the day came crashing down like a tidal wave. So much had happened, too much, a sensory overload of emotions he was too exhausted to handle. His life was gone, robbed from him, and he was thrust into a new situation in which he had absolutely no power alone, an empty husk of the man he once was. Every thing he had worked for, the freedom he had spent his whole life chasing, robbed from him in an instant. 

His eyes went out of focus, world blurring together as he fell on his side, giving in to the exhaustion that gnawed at every part of his being. He was wet, freezing, chilled to the bone, but didn’t have the energy to take off the soaked fabric that clung to his body. His heart felt heavy and hollow in his chest, and he could feel the numbness of his sorrow consuming him. He thought of nothing, letting his eyes close as he shivered on the rock, unconsciousness enticing him with long black fingers, soothing, quiet, all at once.

Jesse did not know how long he stayed that way, comatose on the rock, dead to the world. All he knew was when he awoke once more, he was freezing, and every part of his body hurt. He groaned quietly, throat ragged and dry, salt burning in his mouth. He coughed hard, curling in closer around himself, trying to return to the welcoming void of sleep, but it eluded him. Slowly, his good eye cracked open, trying to focus on something, anything. As the world fell into view, he could make out the wavering reflection of the water dancing on the cave walls, the pale shafts of moonlight streaming down in thin beams. And another thing, something different, too close to his face to take into focus. He shifted then, wincing through the pain that shot through his body as he propped himself up on one arm to get a better look at what it was. 

There, beside him, neatly arranged in a row, were ten gold rings. They were polished, metal shiny brightly in the moonlight, glittering little stars on the dark rock. McCree blinked a few times, processing slowly, before he took them into his hand, turning them over slowly in his fingers. “Lost,” he whispered, ignoring the roughness of his own voice. “I thought they were lost.” One by one, he looked them over. All of them were there, the ten rings he wore proudly on each finger, a tale to go along with them. There, the big one with the diamond encrusted in the center; that had been one he had taken from a Spaniard after he’d bested him in battle. And this one, a thinner one with a row of fine rubies, that one he had earned in port after winning a round of cards. There was one, a beautiful piece of work with the letters “A.A.” and “F.A.” printed on the inside. That had been a birthday gift when he had turned twenty. The largest, a massive piece of jewelry emblazoned with the image of a skull missing an eye, his ship’s colors, the symbol of the Deadlock, felt familiar and heavy in his hands, comfortable, his and his alone. “I thought they were lost,” He whispered again, voice cracking weakly.

He closed his eyes then, laying back down on the rock, curling around himself once more while clutching the rings to his chest. This was a peace offering. An act of kindness. An apology. Whatever it was, he would not take it for granted. Jesse McCree had been stripped of so much, he would hold onto anything he could of the life he had built before. The siren had given him this. He would not forget it.

“Thank you,” He whispered, before letting the sweet song of sleep take him under once more.

Behind him, a pair of eyes that glowed like the moon watched from just above the water’s edge. Hanzo didn’t move, simply watched and waited until he could hear the gentle snoring of the human on the rocks, before sinking back into the waves. As he disappeared into the darkness of cave’s entrance, he turned, looking back up towards the rocky shore where the human slept, and gave a small smile, before he shot through the opening of the cave towards the open sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry bout the wait, y'all! But man, what a come back. I have more planned, so stay patient with me, and I guarantee it'll be worth the wait.  
> I love comments and feedback, so feel free to leave it!  
> If you have any questions, ideas, or comments about this AU and it's world, shoot me a message at either of my blogs:  
> http://sake-and-whiskey.tumblr.com/  
> http://samatura.tumblr.com/
> 
> Thanks so much y'all!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo goes seeking advice on the care of his human, and gets more than he anticipated.

Hanzo very rarely needed advice on anything. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he had to ask for help at all. The only time the dragon didn’t do things on his own was when he was hunting, and even then, the companionship was a choice, not a necessity. The only being in the world he cared for was his brother, and he trusted him with everything. The dragon was the ruler of these seas, but Genji was the ideal second in a command, the perfect companion, ally, partner in crime. He was as intelligent as Hanzo, but had an eye for planning and resourcefulness that Hanzo often overlooked in favor of strength and headstrong determination. Genji simply saw the world differently than Hanzo, and while at times that was very irritating to the older dragon, there were times it was incredibly useful.

Now was one of those times.

Genji’s den was not far from Hanzo’s, so he made quick work of the distance. The isle they lived on the coast of was a moderately sized one, but the brother’s had chosen it for that reason among many. It was an active volcanic island in a warm water ocean, and the volcano’s lava flows that occasionally poured into the ocean would cool into hollow shells, huge pillow lavas forming an underwater cave system that made perfect dens.The volcanic soil also made the perfect base for coral reefs, which extended far out into the crystal waters that surrounded the island. Perfect for attracting life, and deterring human sailors who would be unable to navigate through the shallow waters. The island was small enough that no humans inhabited it, but there were a variety of creatures that lived on land, and a lush forest that had bloomed from the rich black soil. Other types of sea creatures had tried to claim the isle for themselves, but the dragons would not be bested. They had earned it, and it was theirs to own.

While Hanzo lived in one of the caves created by the pillow lava that sat on the shore of the more volcanic side of the island, half exposed to the open air and half submerged beneath the sea, Genji’s den was very different. His was less of a cave, and more of a lagoon, an inlet in the island’s rocky shoreline. As he drew nearer, he surfaced, taking in the view of Genji’s domain. Lush trees hung over the edge of the cliffs, a waterfall running down the rocks and into the clear water. A few large rocks stuck out from the water, worn smooth by the waves. Piled on the rocks and onto the seafloor of the lagoon were gold coins, a horde much smaller than Hanzo’s, but still an impressive one. The sun was beginning to rise, and it painted the entire scene in beautiful swaths of pinks and oranges, the gold beneath the sea glittering like stars. 

As he drew closer, he could make out shapes draped across the rocks, and couldn’t help but smirk knowingly. His brother had a habit of always keeping company, and while Hanzo had more gold in his collection, Genji was an avid collector of specimens. He was a charmer, and was particularly fond of company of the flesh. So it was no surprise when he entered Genji’s den that a few heads turned up to look at him, groggy and half awake. Hanzo stopped at the edge of the rocks, leaning against the shore line, and waited. 

There were at least ten different kinds of sea folk entangled on the rock, wrapped around one another, either sleeping or quietly watching Hanzo as they held each other. This was how it was any time Hanzo came in the morning; Genji and his collection had a habit of staying up until the latest hours of the night, either hunting or indulging each other in more physical interests. He could make out a few he knew; there was one, a man who had the tail of a shark and less human features, but was still beautiful in a masculine way, all muscle and sleek skin. He was being held from behind by a siren, skin a dark tan color with black hair nearly as long as Hanzo’s that clung to her body and covered her naked breasts. There was another man, this one with long dreadlocked hair and dark skin that lead down to a tail of glittering gold scales, a few rigid spikes running down his spine. A few were new, one woman with the tail of a seahorse and green skin, another that was a man with skin that was a pale blue. And sirens. There were always new sirens, male and female alike, that came and went in Genji’s collection. They were creatures of pleasure, all of them vying for the young sea dragon’s attention, and he was more than happy to oblige them. It was a life style Hanzo had a disdain for, but had long since gotten used to.

So he waited, allowing the creatures who had awoken upon his arrival to wake their master. Genji sat up slowly in the center of them, rubbing his eyes with a wide yawn, needle-like teeth flashing in the early morning light. And damn him, he was still wearing the human’s hat, he noticed, scoffing at how absolutely ridiculous his brother looked. The few creatures who were awake continued to stare at Hanzo, some with curiosity, others with desire, but he paid them no mind. The rest continued to sleep, snoring quietly with their arms crossed over one another, blissfully ignorant of the presence of the great sea dragon. When Genji’s eyes fell on his brother, a smile instantly broke on his face, and he tilted his head with an amused grin. 

“Brother!” He cried, and a few of the creatures pooled around him shifted at the sudden loudness of his voice. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this fine morning? Not that I don’t love when you come, but it’s a bit early for a visit, is it not?” 

Hanzo snorted, giving his brother a dry look. “It is not early to those of us who do more than lounge about all day and night.” As he spoke, a few more of the creatures woke up, some of the siren’s lifting their head to find the source of the noise. 

Genji snickered before shrugging. “Oh, I do plenty more than lounge around. You can ask my beauties about that, I’m sure they’d be happy to tell you all about the things I do.”

“Can you please be quieter?” One of said beauties groaned, leaning her head against Genji’s bicep and running her fingers lazily down the corded muscle. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”

The sea dragon turned to her, running a finger down her cheek as he affectionately cooed, “Hush now, Kaiyo, the dragon is talking now, go back to sleep.”

“We can’t sleep with you talking so much,” The shark man chuckled, voice rough and weathered, though Hanzo could hear the smile on his face as he nuzzled into Genji’s shoulder. 

“Sakana is right,” the dark skinned siren agreed, running a hand down the young dragon’s abdomen, kissing on his shoulder. “Most of us are awake now anyways, so just ignore Kaiyo.” 

“But I want to sleeeeeep,” the siren named Kaiyo wailed, giving a weak whine. “We were up so late last night, and it always takes so long to get comfortable.”

“Hush now, Kaiyo,” Genji said again, more firmly this time, and the siren was quiet. He turned back to his brother, smirk still painted across his lips. Hanzo gave him a dirty look, but the young dragon only shrugged. “What was it you came here for, brother? I thought you would be plenty interested in your newest beauty.”

Hanzo looked away with a grunt, and Genji’s smirk fell, brows rising with concern. “Did something happen? Did you eat him already?”

“No,” Hanzo snapped, too quickly. 

“Then what’s the problem?” The young dragon asked, cocking his head in confusion.

Hanzo sighed, trying to sort his thoughts. He had come to Genji because he had a problem, but now that he was here, he didn’t know where to begin. “He’s… he is a handful,” he began, and Genji smiled slyly, sitting up more to prop his chin on his hand, listening eagerly. “He is over confident, brash, and cocky. He refuses to recognize that I am his master now, even though I saved him and he owes me his life. He is rude and ungrateful, and a complete fool. And he talks, Genji, he talks so much, so much that I think he does it simply to hear his own voice.”

“Hmm, who does that sound like?” The siren who was holding Sakana muttered, and a chorus of soft laughter and gentle chuckles came from the pile of sea folk. Genji gave a huff of protest, but Hanzo continued before he could speak. 

“And the things he says! He talks of how he has the right to the sea, that just because he is a surface man doesn’t mean he can’t love the ocean as I. He is an outright fool. And he can’t even swim, Genji. The man is a pirate and cannot even swim.”

“Hold on, what?” Genji spat, face screwing up in confusion. “What do you mean he can’t !swim, why would he be on the sea if he couldn’t swim? Isn’t that just asking for death?”

“That’s what I said!” Hanzo cried, throwing his hands up. “And he talks of how he didn’t ask to be saved, how I should have left him to the sea. He’s a complete and utter fool. It’s maddening.” 

“Hm,” Genji paused for a moment, running his thumb over his chin, considering. “Well, I can't imagine I would be eager to be someone's pet after a life of freedom. Surely you can empathize with that, brother.”

Hanzo gave a grunt, looking away in irritation, and Genji continued, a sly smile playing at his lips. “But if he is truly more trouble than he’s worth, I'd be happy to take him off your hands. I'm sure my lovelies wouldn't mind a new addition to our pack. Isn't that right?” He asked, nuzzling his head against the shoulder of the shark man wrapped around him. A murmur of agreement came from the pile of tangled sea folk, the idea of the human man exciting and new. 

But the great dragon only scoffed, shaking his head. “No,” he said roughly, a sternness behind his voice that drew Genji’s attention back to his older brother. “No, I'm not giving up on him.” Hanzo said firmly, letting his gaze fall to the water that lapped the rocks gently. His face softened then, brows arching as a soft smile graced his strong features. “He is a pain, an ungrateful creature who is proving to be more trouble than he is worth, but… he is resilient. He is proud and confident in himself, has no lack of conviction. He speaks of his humanity highly, and talks in a way I have never heard. There is a grace in his words hidden behind tears of struggle, and he wears his scars as though they were medals. He’s beautiful, but there is a sadness in his eyes I cannot place. He is intelligent, more so than most of his kind. And there’s just something about him, brother, something I can't understand that calls to me and draws me in. I don't know what it is about him but… but I am not ready to give up on him.”

When Hanzo turned back to his brother, eyes searching for an answer, twenty faces were turned to look at him, painted in wonder and gentle smiles. Genji sat stunned in the center, eyes wide but grinning, unable to find words. He had been with his brother for centuries, and never had he heard him speak of anyone, regardless of species, in this way. It was astonishing to see the great dragon so perplexed, so… smitten, it seemed, by the likes of a simple human. 

Hanzo turned away quickly, cheeks heating up as he growled out, “I came to you because, since I have decided to keep him, I need to find the means to keep him alive. Humans have different needs than we do, and I need to figure out exactly what I need to maintain his health.”

Genji snapped out of his thoughts, nodding quickly. “Ah, I suppose that is important, isn't it? I can't say I know exactly what humans need to live any more than you do, it has been as long since you cared for them as it has for me.” 

“But we know!” One of the sirens, the female called Kaiyo piped up once more. Both Dragons turned to look at her, Hanzo raising an eyebrow before she continued. “Sirens can hear what men want most in the world. Their hearts sing laments of desire, and we in turn sing those songs aloud to lure them into our arms so we can breed and eat. It's how our kind adapted to survive.”

The rest of the sirens nodded, speaking out their agreement. Hanzo’s face lit up, the thought one he had not considered. Genji gave an encouraging smile, gesturing to the siren. “Oh, very good! Tell my brother and I what you sing of, sweet Kaiyo.”

“Sex,” came a chorus of voices, followed by a fit of giggles, the sirens laughing and chattering amongst themselves. Hanzo’s face fell and he rolled his eyes, mood instantly souring. He didn't know what he had been expecting, though in retrospect he couldn't really expect more for humans, as simple minded as they generally were. Nor could he expect more from the sirens, who were just as simple minded as the men of the surface.

Genji could feel the annoyance radiating in waves from his brother, and quickly tried to regain the composure of his sirens, cooing and shushing them. “Be serious, Kaiyo,” he said sternly. 

“I mean it though!” The siren protested, raising her hands defensively. “They spend so much time stranded on their boats that their hearts long for the company of a woman.”

“Or a man,” one of the few male sirens purred, and Kaiyo quickly nodded her agreement. 

“Or a man,” she repeated. “I would say it’s a pretty even split.”

Hanzo closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between his clawed fingers, letting out an exasperated sigh. He had a strong dislike for the simple minded, and sirens fell into easily into that category for his liking. “Is there anything else?” 

“They like gold,” The dark skinned man chimed in, flipping his glittering tail proudly. “I hear the surface men risk their lives for it.”

“That’s true,” One siren with long red hair agreed. “But when they float for a long time, their hearts sing about water.”

“Water?” The shark man retorted, taken aback. “How can they sing about water when they’re floating in it?”

“They need fresh water,” Kaiyo snapped back, coming to the defense of the red haired woman. “They aren’t like us, the salt dries them up and eats at them from the inside if they drink it.”  
“Good!” Genji nodded encouragingly. “That’s one thing your human needs then, brother. Fresh water. What else?” 

“Well, I know that everything needs food,” Sakana countered, running his long webbed fingers through Genji’s hair. “We all have to hunt, it is part of being alive.”

Genji turned to look at him, gaze darting between his eyes and his lips, smiling coyly before turning back to Hanzo. “So that’s another thing then! Food and fresh water.”

Hanzo gave a sigh, shaking his head. He had known damn well that his human would need food, but the freshwater would be a hassle. He had no ready supply of that, save the waterfalls that flowed from the interior of the island into the sea, and no way to bring it back. As for food, he would have to travel onto the isle itself, into the lush forest to find things. That or hunt something, but he wasn’t sure which creatures the human could eat without getting sick from. The task of venturing onto land was not one he was eager to do, a waste of magic he would have preferred to save for something else, but this was important enough. The human was worth the effort. 

“Anything else?” He said dryly, shooting Genji an exasperated look. He didn’t know what he had been expecting by asking the lesser sea creatures his brother spent time with. He should have known they would be little to no help. 

One siren he hadn’t seen, a very young female, stuck her head up from the pile, looking on the older dragon shyly. She was beautiful in a simple way, brown eyes glittering with a quiet sadness he couldn’t place, dark skin dusted with freckles, and a mop of shaggy dark hair on her head. ‘She looks like the human,’ he thought suddenly, which only made him more irritated. She was no doubt new, perhaps a bitter replacement his brother had chosen to fill his desire for the man that Hanzo had claimed. But her voice was soft and gentle, and made his anger subside with the carefulness of her words.

“They sing about love,” She muttered, staring down the great dragon. “They are all lonely, all the ones I’ve seen. All of them want someone to love them. It’s easy to sing to them, because they have no one. All they want is affection, same as any of us.” Hanzo was transfixed by her words, by the purity with which she spoke. The simple view of love and affection only youth have, when their worlds are much less tainted by the pain and struggle the great dragon had felt, combined with a sadness and understanding well beyond her years. When had he lost that, he wondered, when had he given up the ability to view others with compassion and understanding? She was right, of course. What creature didn’t want love? He was sure his human had his own needs, his own desire to feel comfort and affection? Was that something Hanzo could supply? 

Hanzo’s self reflection was cut short as a symphony of snorts and laughs came from the pile of other sea folk.  
“Do you hear her? The nerve of a child.”  
“To compare us to the men of the surface, how absurd.”  
“You can tell she’s only just matured, to talk of love like that.”  
“Who brought this one?”

Even his brother chuckled softly, shaking his head in a dismissive manner. “Well brother, it seems the most important thing you can do is love your human. I don’t know if love is something you’re capable of feeling, but I’m sure your human would appreciate it all the same,” He teased, flashing an amused smile. 

 

Hanzo snarled, flipping a hand in annoyance, wonder gone to the irritation once again brought on by the simple minded sirens. “Do not patronize me, brother. You would do well to mind your tongue,” He snapped, staring daggers at his sirens, who all looked away, hiding from the power glare of the dragon. “What we know is the human needs food and water. And since you seem so keen on giving me advice, perhaps you can tell me how I can bring him freshwater and food without ruining it by the sea?” 

Genji frowned for a moment, thinking before raising a hand. “There’s bound to be food we can find on shore, and we can bring the water back with magic. Should be simple enough, right? A containment spell or something of the like. It’s been awhile since I’ve done any magic like that, but it shouldn’t be too hard.”

The older dragon paused in thought before nodding, tension easing in his shoulders as he considered his brother’s words. It had been a long time since he too had done such magic, but he could do it easily. However… 

“If you are convinced it will be so easy, then you can assist me,” He said smugly, pushing off the rock. 

Genji’s face screwed up in confusion and he opened his mouth to give a cry of protest, but Hanzo silenced it with a sharp glance. This wasn’t a discussion, it wasn’t a request. It was an order, and Genji knew better than to question his brother. So with a sigh, he slid down the rock, prying himself out of the grip of the sirens lying there with gentle promises that he would return quickly. Hanzo rolled his eyes once more before he sunk beneath the waves, and after blowing one last kiss goodbye to the eager seafolk, Genji joined him, swallowed by the sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I know not much happened in the way of McHanzo in this one, but it's important for our progression. Plus, I wanted some more Genji! 
> 
> My Genji is deeply based on Young Genji and his lore, hence the Playboy attitude and the pile of sea-bitches. He's supposed to be very pre-Zenyatta, cocky and arrogant despite deeply caring for Hanzo. I hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> The next chapter will be very exciting, with lots of backstory about the Dragon brothers, and more McCree interactions, so stay tuned.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Send me comments and Feed back on my McHanzo blog!  
> http://sake-and-whiskey.tumblr.com/


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plan is made, and the game begins.

The shore had changed since the last time Hanzo had seen it.

How long had it been? Fifty years? More? Only the Gods knew. He had lived on this island for heaven knows how long, but the shore was not part of his domain. He did not belong to the land. He lived in his caves and would venture to the lagoons that Genji ruled on the North side of the island, but the shoreline was never something that called to him. Yet the sound of the waves crashing against the sand was familiar, inviting, quiet sighs as the sea met the land. The island was different than the last time he had come to its beach, soft volcanic sand creeping further into the water, testing, exploring. The forest had grown too, an explosion of green that blanketed the distance, tall palm trees and flowering shrubs separating the beach from the island's interior. In the distance, standing tall and resolute, loomed the volcano the island was built upon, an unwavering power that would occasionally rumble, sighing out thin plooms of smoke. The forest that had once been limited to the north side of the island had begun to spread, creeping its way towards the side in which the volcano spilled its molten flow. The forested side was Genji’s, ruler of the greenery and the life that came with it. The South belonged to Hanzo, where the lava hardened into massive hollow pillows where it met the sea, the perfect system of caves and tunnels for his lair. The island was at peace with itself, a perfect combination of the raw power of the volcano paired with the unyielding resilience of the forest. It was as beautiful as Hanzo remembered, but now even more full of life. 

Still, despite the beauty that called his name as softly as the pleased crashing of the waves, he felt…trepidation. No, he thought, apprehension. Nothing made the dragon nervous. Yet the concept of shore, of land, of…walking. That was enough to make him feel apprehension as he treaded water, staring down the shoreline as his long tail slashed behind him. How long had it been again..? The sand glittered under the early morning sun, beautiful and serene, and still he could feel his stomach churning. 

Genji hovered at his side, glancing between the shore and his brother with one eyebrow cocked, before giving him a light shove. Hanzo’s gaze snapped to the younger dragon in confusion and annoyance, but Genji simply laughed, shaking his head. 

“Stop being so nervous,” He chuckled, “The sand isn’t going to swallow you up. Let’s go.”

Hanzo opened his mouth to protest, but Genji had already surged ahead of him, coming up on the land. The older dragon hesitated again, but only for a moment before giving a powerful flick of his tail, gliding through the water until he felt the sand sliding against his scales, sloping up into the shore. 

The brothers were powerful creatures, beings of ancient magic that were not limited to simply one domain. No, dragons like them were born to rule every part of the Earth, from the sea, to the land, to the heavens themselves. The form they spent most of their time living in was not the shape they were born to, nor was the form they shifted to now. Their bodies could shift to suit their needs, could mold into whatever shape they so desired. 

It was this magic Hanzo called upon now, and as he slid up the incline of the shore, he could feel it creeping through his being, searing hot in his cold blood. His tail stretched and shortened, powerful muscles snapped and bones cracking as they reshaped themselves. His scales dipped into his flesh and disappeared into pale skin, still hard and powerful. His long finned ears tapered, though still pointed in an inhuman design. He could feel his finned fingers receding, anatomy forming and changing, his skin shifting, and his tail rip in two. The transformation was not a pleasant one, but no magic came without a price. The pain was the trade off, and though it burned with the agony of a thousand blades, it was a suffering Hanzo had learned long ago to endure. It took only moments before his split tail gave way, and all too suddenly he felt the sensation of sand beneath his toes, feet sloshing through the water one after the other as he made his way through the surf and onto the beach.

Walking. The dragon would never get used to the sensation of walking on two legs.

Hanzo could not remember the last time he had felt sand beneath his feet, but the feeling was one that was foreign, yet familiar. A vague sense of belonging shot up his spine as he walked across the beach beside his brother, who had already begun collecting arms full of coconuts and fruits, grinning at him from ear to ear. 

It had been centuries, surely, since he had last been in a situation that required him to shift into this form. He could remember it clearly: the last time he had given up the land for the sea and let the ocean become his home forever. His nerves were trying to readjust to the sensation of legs, to the warmth of the hot sand slipping between his toes, to the rhythmic sway of walking. It reminded him of his younger years, of when times were much more complex and difficult. He didn’t miss those days, full of struggle and loss, youth distorted beneath a red wash of blood and sorrow. No, the past belonged in the past. But these sensations, very simple, very calm, very human, reminded him of when he had come to learn of himself, and to rebuild what he had once destroyed. 

Genji had been excited by the prospect of returning to the land. Once he had shed his pile of lovers and begrudging attitude, the concept of once again taking human form had him grinning and chattering nonstop. He talked the whole time, reminiscing of the happier parts of their childhood, bringing back vivid memories Hanzo had thought to be buried in his mind. The image of the mountains, high peaks painted in snow and forest, the home of Gods and magic creatures. Their home. The river in which they were born, high atop the crest of a mountain that seemed to touch the sun. They had been different then, in their natural forms, creatures of the water that were blessed with magic and power. And their parents raised them as such, two dragons ruling the countryside together. Strong, confident, mighty dragon lords who controlled all that surrounded them. Their lives had been made. 

“Do you remember when we first fought?” Genji asked with a grin as he slammed his fist into a palm tree, heavy green coconuts falling to the sand with a hollow ‘thud’. Hanzo scoffed, smirking slightly as he bent to grab it, pausing to look at the lack of claws protruding from his fingers before shaking it off and picking it up.

“How could I forget?” He chuckled, shooting Genji a knowing look. His laughter turned into a choke as he took in the sight of his brother, naked and grinning, topped off by the human’s ridiculous hat still resting on his head, though he quickly regained his composure. “That was when you first challenged me, yes? It wasn’t a real challenge, but you claimed you could best me in battle.” 

“I nearly did,” Genji shot back, and his grin grew as Hanzo let out a full bodied laugh, shaking his head. 

“Nearly did? Please, I had you pinned in a second,” He sneered, but the two chuckled together at the memory: the two dragons, long bodies intertwined as they beat each other into the hillside, mountains shaking like thunder in their quarrel. Light hearted and easy was their battle, brothers challenging the strength and ability of the other. 

There were other memories too, of battles that were much less jovial and friendly, battles that were an ugly stain on the past that Hanzo had fought to forget and leave behind. He glanced at his brother, taking in his naked human form, and remembered why. Even now, his body was painted in scars, heavy dark lines like the stripes of a tiger. His chest, his arms, even his face, was marred by the dark scars, with a large gnarled hunk of flesh missing from his left leg. He could remember when they were still open and raw, so many years ago. In a flash he could see them, opened and fresh, radiating heat as they poured dark black blood, soaking the scales of his brother’s body. He looked away quickly, trying to banish those images from his mind, to push them back into the darkness where they belonged. 

Genji noticed his brother’s shift in mood, shoulders falling as a sadness took hold of his heart. He remembered those days too; their battle for power and strength, when he had been left for dead in the mountains by his brother to wither away slowly and painfully. He could feel the phantom pain in his legs as the memory weighed down on him, but he pushed it to the side, forcing himself to be happy for the both of them as he worked up a smile, moving on past that memory into better times. 

“Do you remember when we first walked like this?” He asked gently, offering a tender smile to his brother as they continued along the shore line. Hanzo didn’t answer right away, eyes fixed on the distance, a thousand yard stare. Genji raised his hand, resting it on his brother’s shoulder, comforting and supportive. “Do you remember how nervous you were?” 

 

Hanzo hesitated a moment before turning to look at Genji, nodding slowly. “How could I forget? You were so different, with your human face, dressed in their robes and wearing their sigil, asking me why I was so distraught.” 

Genji smiled brightly, moving in to bump into Hanzo’s shoulder playfully. “Do you remember what you said? I had never seen you that way, all sad and mopey.” The younger dragon hardened his face, his voice dropping to be deep and remorseful. “‘Seeking power, I killed my brother. But without him, I am lost,’ that’s what you said. Always so dramatic, Hanzo.” 

Hanzo whipped his head around to growl at his brother, but he ducked out of the way, grinning playfully in a way that Hanzo could not help but smile back. He shook his head, breathing out hard through his nose, but nodded. “I was being sincere, you know. Most would not be so critical of one’s sorrow.” 

Genji shrugged but his face was soft, a knowing and gentle smile playing his lips. “You had inflicted wounds upon yourself. You needed to heal. To find value in humility. That was the only way you would find peace.” 

The older dragon looked back towards the sea, nodding again. “It was a hard earned peace, but a peace nonetheless.” 

“Well, you had lots of help from them,” Genji offered. “The shogunate was very giving to us. We would not have survived long without them.” 

“Especially you,” Hanzo muttered. “Had their scouts not found you in the forest, you would not have…” 

“No,” The younger dragon agreed. “I wouldn’t have.”

A heavy silence overtook them as they continued down the beach, enveloped in their own thoughts. Hanzo’s mind drifted to their years as humans, so long ago. Genji had lead him to the human kingdom, to the Shogun whose men had saved him in the forest. He could remember it clearly, the high castles of the shogunate kingdom, beautiful and red, surrounded by cherry blossoms. He had felt so small in his new human form, a boy really, long haired tied behind his back, not yet graced with the facial hair of a man. They had walked into the throne room where Genji presented him to the Shogun, and Hanzo had bowed to the human, thanking him profusely for saving the life of his brother, and swearing he would set about to rebuild the land together in their name. The Shogun had smiled on him benevolently, and promised only good intentions. He accepted Hanzo’s thanks, and offered to teach the brothers the way of the humans, and to guide them. The brothers had been overjoyed at this opportunity, and the human ushered them into the clan graciously, taking them as one of his own. Sojiro Shimada, leader of the Shimada Shogunate. 

“We had good times in the kingdom, didn’t we?” Genji broke the silence first, smiling lazily as he reminisced. Hanzo glanced at him as he was torn from his thoughts, chuckling at his fool hearted expression. 

“You more so than me. You were always… indulgent of their hospitalities,” He mused.

Genji snorted, shooting Hanzo a playful smile. “Well when they offered them up so graciously, how could I refuse? The people of the land were very taken with me. The natives, the merchants, even the visitors were drawn to me. Do you remember the monk, the one who came with his brethren on a pilgrimage from Nepal?”

Hanzo stopped short, feet skittering on the sand as he laughed, loud, genuine, full bodied. “The monk!” He cried, choking on his words. “How could I forget?! You brought him everywhere, and he followed you so dutifully. He was absolutely taken by you, he seemed to take care of your every whim.” 

“Oh he took care of my every whim alright,” Genji shot back, which made Hanzo snort once more. After a moment he looked away, sly smile fading into something softer, a look of content crossing his face. “I… rather miss him. I think of him often. I feel I enjoyed his company more than I cared to admit. He helped me through so much, through my struggles and my insecurities. He was a wonderful man.”

A pang of hurt shot through the older dragon’s heart, not at the longing or the adoration in his brother’s voice, but at the fact he knew that he was the cause of those insecurities and struggles. The ever vain young dragon, once so proud of his looks, reduced to a form forever painted in scar tissue, forever damaged. The monk had helped him through much, at the price of Genji leaving Hanzo often to spend time with the human, something that irritated the dragon more than he cared to admit. “You seem just as taken as he was with you,” He scoffed, more roughly than he intended, looking off at the sea. 

Genji turned slowly to face the other, cocking an eyebrow. “Oh really?” He mused, though Hanzo did not turn to meet his gaze. “If we are speaking of being taken by humans, I don’t feel you have room to talk.” 

Hanzo’s eyes widened and he whipped his head around, voice rising indignantly. “I am not-”

“BROTHER,” the young dragon groaned, eyeing him dully. “You saved a human, a cursed human mind you, from being eaten by scavengers, brought him back to your lair, and claimed his as your property, all without even knowing how you were going to feed him. A human is a big responsibility Hanzo, we don’t have the resources to care for one and yet-” 

“Spare me your semantics,” He snarled, “I’m not like you, this isn’t the same as when you brought a sparrow home to Sojiro and asked if you could keep it without a place to put it. I know what I am doing.” 

“Really? Because it feels like exactly the same situation.” Genji snapped back, rolling his eyes. “Except my sparrow wasn’t cursed with black magic. Which is an issue you have brushed over multiple times now that I am inclined to bring up. No good comes of owning cursed trinkets, brother, let alone cursed creatures. Why are you so inclined to keep this one?” 

Hanzo grit his teeth together, anger gnawing at his throat, but it was cause for thought. He paused a moment, trying to gather his feelings, measure his words, before he let out a sigh. “I did not think,” He said warily. “At first I simply saw the treasure he had, and thought I wanted it. I knew he was cursed, I understood the repercussions of that. I am no fool. But… When I looked at him, at his face…” Hanzo’s face as it was framed by the waves, lit up in the moonlight, hauntingly beautiful. The dragon racked his brain to think of the right words. “I just.. I don’t know. I can’t explain it. I know it was foolish, but I… I needed him.

“And the longer I have him the more I wonder if it was a mistake,” He grunted, thinking of his argument with the man, the way they snapped back and forth, a battle to overpower the other. “He’s stubborn, headstrong, and a fool. He has no value in his own life, but is still cocky and over zealous. And his voice! He speaks like nothing I’ve ever heard, with words that are as rough as the rest of him. He did not fear me, as the other men of the surface had, he stood to challenge me. It’s irritating and drives me mad, but behind his words…” 

Hanzo stopped, thinking of the pain in the man’s face when he had turned away from their power struggle, the sorrow that dripped from his words. Resolute and defeated. It was like nothing Hanzo had ever seen before, the sadness ill-fitting on the strong beautiful brow of the surface man. Something in him hurt watching the human turn away, a mix of irritation at being shut down and empathy for his pain. Hanzo knew of loss, knew of the immense agony of being alone, and how it consumed you whole without a second thought. That had been why he had returned the rings, why he had offered up his meager apology. He would not bow down to the human, but if he intended to keep him, there needed to be a give. They could not continue as they had started.

He sighed, closing his eyes as he pictured the sad face of the human, beauty marred behind a wash of sorrow, and whispered in a low voice, “Behind his words there is something more.” 

Hanzo did not look at Genji, did not see the soft eyes or the gentle smile. He knew his brother better than anyone else, and could read him like a book. It had been a lapse in judgement to take the human, of that Genji was certain. But there was a change in his brother, subtle, just beneath the surface, but there with the arrival of the surface man. He was sure Hanzo would deny it if he brought it up, insist it was agitation or annoyance, but Genji could see right through him. Things were going to change now that the human was around, for better or worse Genji could not say. But he was eager to see how things would pan out. 

“Well then,” He said softly, drawing Hanzo’s attention once more. The smile on his lips was soft and encouraging, bright with the promise of new beginnings. “We should probably get back to him, shouldn’t we? He’ll be waiting on you.”

Hanzo said nothing for a moment, before he nodded slowly, offering up a weak smile in return. His brother’s positive energy was infectious, and a welcome change from the swirling amalgamation of emotion in his heart. The two turned back to the sea, Genji changing the subject to Sakana and the others in his nest, of rumors and petty gossip, simple things, as they strode across the sand. The warm water welcomed Hanzo as he stepped into the surf, half listening to his brother’s chatter as he sunk deeper into the waves. A feeling of cool familiarity returned to him as his feet moved together and became one once more, body reshaping as he disappeared beneath the surface and breathed the ocean once again. 

 

~~~~

Jesse McCree was starving. 

The descent into starvation had been a slow one, guided along by heart break, dehydration and exhaustion. McCree had woken several hours ago, entire body screaming in pain as his eyes strained to open. Thin beams of pale early morning light cascaded through the weak cracks in the ceiling, refracting off the glittering water to light up the dark cave. Even the gentle brightness was too much for his eyes, and he flinched, only to realize every muscle in his body screamed in protest. His throat burned, his muscles felt as though they were about to snap, and his heart felt as though it had been blown out of his chest. Sensory overload, too much for his brain, head throbbing and full of cotton.

He groaned, sitting up, struggling to make sense of the over-stimulation he was experiencing, brain searching for a meaning behind what he was experiencing, and it all came back; The battle, the Reaper, Fareeha, the sea, the Siren. The Siren, especially, with his strong words and demands for ownership, the power struggle they had exchanged. Their standoff and the creature’s apology. So much in such a short amount of time, and yet it felt so distant, hazy behind a veil of exhaustion.

His eyes flicked down to his hand, gold rings still clenched tightly within his fist, reminders of a simpler time, and now a symbol of the power the siren held over him, its ability to give and take as it saw fit. What had been a heartwarming gesture the night before now had a sour note, tainted by the pain throbbing in his head and the dry scraping of his throat. A siren. An honest to god sea creature, a merman, who seemed adamant in his decision to own the pirate, despite his protests. The thought was bitter and made McCree scowl at the rings in his palm. He had spent his whole life fighting to be free, and here he was, slipping between Death’s fingers into the hands of another entity content to control him. 

And yet he had been so ready to accept death, so willing to embrace being consumed by nothing, that was this really any different? Was floating alone in the sea for all eternity really any different than being the belonging of a siren? His brain tried to reason with him, trying to find a positive in his situation, a survival skill he had adopted long ago to keep himself sane. Surely this was a better alternative, even if it was not ideal. This way he was still alive, still breathing, which in it of itself was a miracle. The siren did not seem as though it wanted to kill him, as opposed to keep him for its amusement, which was not as bad as being eaten alive. His eyes returned to the rings once more, not so much an apology, but a peace offering. A truce between two strong warriors, a sign of mutual respect. Surely that was what the siren had intended. Jesse could work with that.

With a sigh, he lifted his metal hand, slipping each ring back onto its proper finger one at a time, doing the same with his human hand, until each finger shone proudly beneath his gaze. They were beautiful, each unique and dazzling, and that was the reason he loved them as he did. The siren had liked them, he thought, startled by the realization. This creature that surrounded itself by gold, by statues of marble and the most beautiful things, had liked his rings, which were meager in comparison to some of the things Jesse had glimpsed lying beneath the waves. And yet they had caught the siren’s eye and made him covet them all the same.

‘You caught his eye too,’ a voice, soft and quiet in the back of his mind said. His subconscious never sounded like his own voice, it was always someone else. Another survival skill he had come to learn in his younger years. The voice would change depending on the situation, sometimes sharp commands of his former captain’s, other times the soft cooing of women he had bedded in port. Occasionally, rarely, it was the rough scratching of his mother. Now, however, it was a strong voice, shaped with an accent, steady despite the gentle nature of it’s words. Now it was Fareeha. 

McCree felt a pang in his heart the moment he heard her voice, eyes burning instantly as they threatened to well up. Her final scream echoed in the back of his skull, murderous and wet with the sound of blood, but was quickly silenced by her whispers once more. ‘He wouldn’t have saved you if you hadn’t caught his eye, Jesse. Clearly there is a reason you are here.’ 

Jesse closed his eyes, body trembling as he took a few breaths through his nose, trying to calm himself. “Yeah,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Yeah, I reckon you’re right about that. Don’t know why he woulda kept me otherwise.”

‘Precisely,’ The ghost of Fareeha soothed in his mind, encouraging. ‘You have been given a second chance, Jesse. Whether it be at the hands of the Gods, or at the hands of a siren, you were spared by the sea. You have more to offer in this life, more you must do.’

There it was, yet another trick to survival Jesse had taught himself long ago, dragged to the surface by his subconscious. He was just a man, and the world was a daunting and terrible place. Anytime he found himself listless, a vagabond to the sea with no reason to live, he would invent one for himself. Give a stubborn man a goal, and he will live the rest of his days trying to achieve it. He had done this many times in his life, a way of keeping the monsters that lived in the back of his brain silent by assuring them he could not die just yet. He had things to do, he had a reason to carry on. And so it was now, whispered to him in the soft coo of Fareeha’s echoed voice. 

“What do I gotta do, Fareeha?” He whispered, dry throat burning as he forced it to work. The cloud haze in his mind was grasping at straws, reaching for anything to give it clarity. 

‘Justice,’ the voice whispered roughly, so real, so close that he swore it was really her whispering it to him. He had heard her say it countless times in their lives together, that hearing it again made him breathless. “I cannot rest until I have justice, Jesse. You are the only one who can bring me justice, who can avenge me. You’re a smart man. You have survived worse than this. So you need to be wise, and you need to play smart, play Fareeha. Give the siren what he wants. Play his game, but play it on your terms. Earn his trust. Do what you can to survive. Find a way out when the time is right, find a way back to civilization. Hunt down Gabriel. Bring my justice, Jesse McCree.”

The plan slowly unfurled in his brain, coming to actualization, fleshing itself out. He had to survive. He had to survive so he could escape and be free again, so he could avenge Fareeha, so he could hunt down the ghost of Gabriel and end him once and for all. Someone had to do it, it seemed fitting it be him. Only then would Jesse—and Fareeha—know peace. 

McCree opened his eyes once more, taking in the scenery of the cave once more, the early morning light sending warbling lines of white across the stone walls. He could do that. He could play the siren’s game, could stay his belonging for now. It would be a slow game, but he could give the siren what he wanted, could earn his trust until the perfect opportunity to escape presented itself. And then he would find a way back to civilization, hunt down the monster, and be free once more. Jesse felt his heart lurch, driven by this new goal. He had a reason to live, and he would fight for it.

In order to fulfill this goal, however, he would have to play the part. But to play the siren’s game would mean giving in a way he had never planned on doing. He would have to meet the siren in the middle, and go through the motions of life as he saw fit. It was not something Jesse was excited to do at all, but he could manage.

His mind ventured to the way he had sat before him, to his proud features and stone cold face. Beautiful, but deadly, like the mako sharks that would follow ships through the sea. Blue and sleek, all hard lines and muscle, the body of a predator. When he spoke, he commanded power, demanded authority in his tone and words. He was the ruler of this domain and would have nothing less, and yet he had met Jesse in the middle. He could hear Fareeha’s voice in the back of his mind, the quiet affirmation ‘You caught his eye too.’ McCree couldn’t wrap his head around this, but knew it must be true. He didn’t have value like jewels did, didn’t have the same worth as the treasure piled beneath the waves. And yet, here he was, the newest addition to the siren’s gold. Yes, there was a reason the siren had kept him alive. He could use that to his advantage. 

Jesse prepared himself mentally, talking through scenarios and conversations in his head, rehearsing what he should say upons the siren’s arrival. As the brighter light of the morning began to seep through the ceiling, he was ready. He waited expectantly, legs stretched on the rock as he tried to pass the time. He thought of the kind of ship he would hunt down when he made it back to port, the crew he would have to throw together to be on his way. How much it would cost, where he would find supplies, where he would find the type of men to fill his needs. On the thought of needs, his mind wandered. What he wouldn’t give for brandy, for whiskey, for something strong to chase away the headache burning in his skull. Or water, he reasoned with himself, which was much more needed at the moment than the bite of spirits. He needed drink, to wet his tongue again. He smirked softly at the thought, mind venturing to darker places. It would be good to wet his tongue again, that was for sure, though the wetness of flesh was just as enticing as the promise of water. How good would it feel to give in, to let his sorrow and stress be worked away at the hands of a skilled wench, or a strong sailor, whoever first caught his eye? How good would it be to drink in that kind of pleasure, to give in to that kind of need? McCree tried to construct the best person he could, tried to chase the distraction as best he could as he attempted to paint the most beautiful man he could, only to be ripped from the fantasy when the siren slipped into his thoughts.

Why the siren came to mind while he tried to imagine up the most attractive partner he could, only the gods knew. But the thought was jarring all the same, the image of his sharp jaw and strong features, of how regal he was, like a prince of some kind, cutting through the foggy desire that had been taking shape in McCree’s mind. He thought of his inky hair and the dark waterfall it made as it ran down his sculpted muscles, gorgeous and inviting, though not feminine in any way. Nothing about the siren was feminine, every aspect of his being screamed of the power and beauty of masculinity, raw and untouchable. Something about him was ancient and ethereal, the type of things myths are made of. He had never heard stories of a siren such as he before. He had always heard of them as beautiful women with tails like fish that sang of the most wondrous things, or men with tails like sharks that promised relations of the sweetest and most sensual kind. Jesse racked his brain, trying to remember the ancient tales he had been told over one too many glasses of whiskey in the dim light of a pub, searching for any information that could help him now. Yet he had never been told of a siren like this, more of a man-serpent than a fish, with a tail so long he had yet to see the end. Nothing had prepared him for this kind of entity, a species of its own, as rare as it was beautiful. 

As more time passed, Jesse felt his confidence slipping, the distraction of his heady desire pushed aside by the growing physical needs of his body. Dehydration was setting in, his skull feeling as though it was being ripped in two with every beat of his heart, throat like sandpaper every time he swallowed. His mouth was dry, tongue burning with salt, lips cracked and parched. Every part of him ached with exhaustion, and he had a feeling that if he fell asleep, he would be content to sleep the rest of his life away. When the hunger first set it, it was earth-shattering, a low growl in his stomach the first sign that his body was giving in. Before long, he was getting sharp stabs of pain in his abdomen, stomach still churning with salt water as it gnawed on itself. All his preparation was thrown out the window, giving way to the bitterness of his body as he felt his will-power collapse around itself. He had experienced this once before, when he was just a child, but the agony had been forgotten to time. Eventually, as the light got brighter and the day pushed on, McCree laid back on the rock, closing his eyes as he clutched himself, body consumed in pain.

He didn’t remember dozing off, but the splash awoke him in an instant, sending him lurching up with a start, eyes whipping around wildly. There he was, just as radiant and beautiful as Jesse remembered, glittering eyes locked on McCree from the water’s edge. All the thoughts Jesse had prepared bubbled up to the surface at once, and when he tried to speak, his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. He gave a strangled sound, vocal chords shredded as he attempted to talk, mind radiating with every heavy beat of his heart. The siren’s eyes darted all over him, taking in his disheveled appearance with a grim expression. Jesse cleared his throat, vaguely aware he tasted blood in the back of his throat, before forcing words from his lips. 

“W-welcome back,” he mustered out, trying to paint his face with as charming of a smile as he could muster. 

The siren stared back at him, only his head peeking up from the water. He hesitated a moment before nodding slowly, raising an eyebrow. “Thank you. You… Do not look well.” 

Jesse laughed in spite of himself, the sound rough and harsh on his own ears. “Reckon I don’t. I don’t feel well neither.” 

The look on the siren’s face was one that looked vaguely reminiscent of pity, though nowhere near it at the same time. He moved closer to the shore, slowly rising out of the water, arms full. “I have brought you something,” the siren said in a low voice as he leaned across the rocks, slowly setting down a pile of fruits.

Jesse thought his eyes might burst out of his skull the moment he saw them. Coconuts, bananas, mangos, a variety of colorful fruit laid out in a pile before him. Hours before, when he still had resolve, he might have told himself to wait, to show restraint, to demonstrate some hesitation or distrust towards the siren and his offering. But his stomach roared at him, head pounding, mind blanking completely. Without a second thought, he scrambled across the rocks, muscles shrieking in protest at the sudden movement but buried beneath the grumbling of his stomach. The siren fell back, face screwed up in confusion as the human darted forward, quickly followed by disgust as Jesse grabbed hold of the first fruit and tore into it. He grabbed without looking, hands falling on a mango before his teeth tore through the thicker papery outer skin. His teeth sunk into it, forcing through the resistance of the stronger outside before breaking through into the bright yellow meat of the fruit, juice erupting from it and splattering everywhere. It was orgasmic, the tangy taste of the mango, sticky liquid running down his jaw, catching in his beard, pouring down his throat. Loud slurps and sucking noises filled the cave, resounding off the stone as he tore through the mango, spitting out hunks of skin only when he had stripped them of all the flesh they had to offer. His mind went blank as he ate, consumed by the raw need to feed as he quickly finished, tossing the empty fruit aside and eagerly reaching for another.

From the water, the dragon watched, brows furrowed as he watched the human devour the fruit, mouth open slightly as he watched. It was disgusting, but oddly charming, to watch the human feed in such a way. It reminded him of his own kind, of how they stripped prey down in a feeding frenzy until nothing remained but a cloud of red in the water. It was intriguing to watch the human mirror his own in such a way, a reflection of their kin. Yet a pang of guilt shot through Hanzo as he watched, knowing that his own carelessness was the reason the human was so crazed to eat. Had he been faster, had he been more prepared, the human would not have been left to hunger. Genji had been right, the human had been waiting on him, but it was for an entirely different reason than the dragon had anticipated. How could he expect to keep a human if he didn’t know the first thing about caring for it? He would need to be more responsible in the future. 

Hanzo watched him tear through nearly all the fruit in the pile, slamming coconuts into the cave floor with resounding ‘THUDTHUDTHUD’s until they cracked open in his hand, drinking their milk and eating their meat until they were an empty husk before tossing them into the growing pile of fruit remains. Cluttered, he realized, the human was cluttering his rocks with trash, polluting the area the way all humans did, leaving a mess wherever they went. Another thing he had not considered about owning the human. Still, he said nothing, letting the human eat until the pile of fruit was reduced to empty shells, and watched him fall back, panting slightly, though momentarily satisfied. 

“Was that to your liking?” The dragon asked, tilting his head.

Jesse turned to look at him, nodding with a smile on his face. “Just what the doctor ordered. I… Well, thank you.” He stuttered, mind slowly reshaping as the hunger died down, thirst somewhat quenched, and tried to regain his composure, to stick to his plan. “Dunno how much longer I could have lasted.” 

 

Hanzo scowled at the words, berating himself internally once more for leaving his human on the brink of starvation. He was glad Genji wasn’t there to witness it, as the younger dragon would have never let him hear the end of it. He could practically hear his voice, sing song, teasing, ‘I thought you said this was nothing like my sparrow, Hanzo? At least I had it a few days before I almost killed it,’ or something else annoying and patronizing. “Yes, well,” He grunted, shaking his brother from his thoughts. “I will do my best to not let you get to that point again.” 

McCree cocked an eyebrow, confused by the meaning of behind the siren’s words, but didn’t dwell on it. “Well. Thank you kindly, then,” He offered, smiling awkwardly. His brain started working slowly, tugging at his attention to remind him of the plan he needed to set in motion. If he was to escape, he needed to earn the siren’s trust, to play along. He swallowed hard, finding his words again, though they came slow the longer he was distracted by the siren’s strong and beautiful face. “I was waitin’ for ya. Wonderin’ if you’d come back,” He began, voice testing and soft.

“If I would come back?” The dragon repeated reproachfully, eyebrow raising. “You did not know if I would return to my own lair?” 

“Well, I, no,” McCree stuttered, kicking himself mentally. “I just meant I, well, I wanted you to come back. Guess part of me was scared you wouldn’t. That all this was a dream or somethin’, and I would wake up God-knows-where.” 

Hanzo’s eyes widened at his words, head tilting slightly. “I assure you this is no dream,” 

“I’m figurin’ that out,” Jesse nodded. “But I wanted you to come back so I could get the chance to talk with ya again, to get back on the right foot. Or, uh, I guess foot ain’t the right word,” He joked, smiling slyly, trying to turn on his charm. “But you know what I mean. I wanted to make amends.” 

The dragon’s lips curled into a smile at the pirate’s words, and he drifted forward, propping his arms up in the bank of the rock, chin resting atop them. “No, not the right word,” He agreed, mirth behind his voice. “What is it you want to make amends for, human?” 

Jesse grinned back at the siren, leaning forward in spite of himself. “Well, I couldn’t help but feel like you and I had a rough start. I was pretty rough to ya without meanin’ to be. I’ve been through Hell and back in the past few days, so waking up to a siren was kind of the straw that broke the camel’s back. Didn’t give you a proper thank you for saving my life.” 

The way the human spoke was so foreign to Hanzo that at times he had trouble picking out what he was saying. Phrases didn’t make sense or words were cut too short, a dialect the dragon had never heard. Still, it fit the human, words slow and deep, the perfect voice for such a man. When he called him a siren, Hanzo nearly laughed out loud, but held it in, forgiving the mistake as he gathered in response. 

“A thanks is not necessary,” The dragon said, eyes locked on McCree’s, smoldering. “You will have plenty of time to thank me. Though it is appreciated.”

Jesse felt a chill shoot down his spine, holding the dragon’s gaze. “‘Spose we do have a fair amount of time together,” he chuckled, though the thought made his gut wrench. “Though we humans don’t like nearly as long as you sirens do, so it might be over before you know it.”

There it was again; ‘Siren.’ Hanzo felt his smile slip, though he pushed the irritation aside, forcing himself to remain pleasant in the company of his human. It wasn’t his fault, he didn’t know how stupid the sirens could be, he didn’t know how poor of a comparison it was, like comparing sharks and minnows. 

“We have plenty of time before then,” Hanzo replied shortly. 

“Yeah,” Jesse agreed quickly, trying to brush over the subject onto something else, something he could glean information from. “Might need more of that fruit pretty soon though. Or water, preferably the kind without salt if you got any of that.” 

The dragon nodded, gesturing to the back of the cave. Jesse followed his motion, seeing that the back portion of the lagoon became another bank, smooth stone disappearing into the shadows of a cave. “There is water in the rocks there that drips from the cave top. It should be good enough for you to drink. And you have more food on the way, rest assured.” Hanzo’s eyes narrowed, coy as his tail sloshed through the water slowly behind him. “I will make sure your needs are always met.” 

McCree held his gaze, felt the burning in his eyes, taken aback. Was he… flirting? Was the siren flirting with him? Was he toying with him? Luring him into a false sense of security? Whatever the case, if this was how the siren wanted to play, then so be it. This was a game Jesse knew well. He smirked back without thinking, his good eye flitting between the siren’s eyes and his lips, testing. “That’s mighty kind of you,” He said, voice a deep rumble. “I’ve been feelin’ an almighty thirst.” 

“Unfortunate,” Hanzo said, voice a low purr. He leaned closer, more of his sculpted upper body slipping from the water and into view, back painted with his long dark hair. “Though I am sure that can be resolved. The water is right over there.” 

“Already told ya I can’t swim,” McCree said smoothly, cocking his head to the side. “Dunno how I’m supposed to get from this big rock to the shore over there.”

“Mmm, that is quite the predicament,” The dragon mused. “I will have to teach you.” 

Jesse cocked an eyebrow. “Really think you could do that?” 

“I can’t imagine why I would not be able to.”

“Well, alright,” McCree conceded, licking his lips nervously, deciding he had absolutely no intention of getting in the water with the siren. “Whatever you say. I ain’t gonna question that a siren knows how to swim. You’re the expert, not me.” 

“There is a lot you have to learn,” Hanzo muttered, ignoring the third slip. “But I intend to teach you. I am confident in my abilities.” 

“Oh? And what abilities might those be?” Jesse grinned slyly, moving closer to the siren.

Hanzo smirked, drawing nearer. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

 

“Reckon I would like to very much,” McCree said, voice dropping even lower.

“We have plenty of time for that,” Hanzo purred back, teasing. 

 

“Maybe I don’t want to wait,” Jesse answered, biting at his lower lip as his face drew closer to the siren’s, only a couple of feet separating the two. 

“Maybe what you want doesn’t matter,” The dragon shot back, voice heavy. 

Hanzo’s eyes left Jesse’s for the first time, dropping to his lips, his throat, the start of the forest of chest hair peeking from McCree’s stained tunic. His gaze was appraising, and subconsciously the pirate wondered if the creature liked what he saw. 

He was about to reply when suddenly a giant splash erupted from the surface of the waves from behind McCree, water flying everywhere. The human and the dragon whipped their heads in the direction of the splash, ripped from the moment. McCree instinctively drew Peacekeeper, spinning around with his weapon at the ready, eyes wide and muscles tensed. Hanzo’s hands clutched the rock tightly, frozen in place. The source of the splash landed on the rocky island with a hard sound, spilling fruit all across the shore as the younger dragon made his entrance. He fell onto his side, propping himself up on his left arm, chin in his hand. A wide grin was on his face as he landed, flopping his tail across the bank. 

“Hello brother!” He said cheerfully, tipping the god-awful hat he was still wearing. “Sorry I’m late. I needed to swing by and make sure Kaiyo hadn’t started a fight with some of my younger collectibles. She has a tendency to do that. And I know you told me to drop the hat off but I just couldn’t, I really think it suits-” Genji’s eyes widened when they landed on McCree, grinning from ear to ear. He shifted, rolling onto his stomach to drag himself further up the rock, closer to where the older dragon and the human were frozen in place. “OH! Your human is awake! How exciting, he didn’t perish, that’s wonderful. Hello, Human!” 

McCree was completely and utterly speechless. No words could describe the shock that gripped his being. Another siren, tail green instead of blue, body painted like a tiger in stripes, tail tattered and mangled, but long, insanely long. He spoke quickly, excitedly, though his words were lost on Jesse in his current state of disbelief. Here he was, perplexed by the enigma of one sea serpent man, and just when he had developed a plan of attack, here came another. He was muscled just like the blue finned siren was, and behind the stripes- no, they were scars- that patterned his face, he had features as strong and regal as the other’s. His hair was shorter though, much shorter, and disappeared underneath a-

“Hat,” McCree said dumbly. “That’s my hat.”

Genji stopped short, blinking once, twice, before cackling, throwing his head back and laughing wildly. “I’m sorry, I honestly forgot it was yours! It’s a wonderful hat, I rather like it. Hanzo insisted it was tacky and hideous, which only made me like it more. Isn’t that right Hanzo?” The green siren chimed happily, turning his gaze to the other.

Jesse turned slowly, eyes slowly falling on the blue finned siren. His face was bright red, eyes blown wide. His mouth was pressed in a thin line, gripping the rock so hard his knuckles burned white. McCree couldn’t tell if he was angry, embarrassed, or shocked. Maybe he was all three. Jesse didn’t know. All he knew was that now he finally had something to call the siren who had claimed him as his own. 

 

Hanzo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! This one was a doozy!  
> I hope y'all liked this chapter! It was a ton of fun to write. Sorry it took so long. We got a lot of backstory, didn't we? And we're only at the tip of the iceberg, there's a ton more about our dragon and our pirate y'all still have yet to learn. But wow! Shapeshifting! 
> 
> Jesse's plan for escaping has just begun. Let's see how it pans out. 
> 
> I love comments and feed back! And if you want to talk to me about it more, visit one of my blogs!   
> http://sake-and-whiskey.tumblr.com/  
> http://samatura.tumblr.com/
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introductions are made, and information shared.

As if one siren hadn’t been enough, now there were two. 

McCree sat, dumbfounded, as the two creatures argued on the rocks in front of him. Well, while one argued. The green finned siren only grinned as the other screamed at him, hissing and snapping at him in a language Jesse couldn’t even begin to understand. They made quite a pair, the scarred and battle damaged green merman next to the beautiful and powerful blue siren.

But a slow feeling of dread began to eat at his core, gnawing its way to the surface. He had barely been able to come up with a plan on how to escape one siren, and even that had been wishful thinking at best. Now, there were two, and as he watched them interact he became even more acutely aware of how dangerous the creatures really were. As the younger siren laughed, he flashed rows of thin needle like teeth, and as he waved his hand dismissively at the other, Jesse could see long talons in place of fingers. He was utterly unphased by the blue siren, muscles tensed and face painted in anger as he roared at the other. The two were apex predators, monsters of the sea, and McCree knew that any chance he had of escape was shattered in the presence of the two of them. Were there more of their kind? Only time would tell. 

Jesse eyed up the pair, head spinning as he tried to piece together what was unfolding before him. The two were clearly comfortable with each other, and the green creature was not at all put off by the other’s harsh reaction. Comfortable, familiar. Brothers, He remembered.The creature had called the blue siren his brother. In addition, he had also called him something else. 

'Hanzo,' his brain supplied him gently, and instantly it fit. Looking at the great blue siren, it was as regal as the man it belonged to. Strong, commanding, powerful. 

He tried to say it outloud, but his voice cracked, throat dry. He coughed, tried again, and finally found his words. “Hanzo,” He muttered, low and rough. The two sirens turned and looked at him, eyes wide. 

The green siren clasped his hands together in excitement, grinning from ear to ear. “Ah, yes! That is my brother’s name,” He nodded, pushing past Hanzo to drag himself up to McCree, thrusting himself forward so they were face to face. “And I am Genji, the younger of the two of us. A pleasure to meet you, human!” 

An opportunity, a voice whispered in the back of his mind. Whether it was Fareeha or Amari or whoever, he didn’t know, but it was insistent. He could play this game as well so long as he kept cool. Take advantage of kindness where it was offered. The blue siren —Hanzo—would not be so cheerful and open. Make a good impression, create false security, false relationships, play the game and win freedom. 

“A-a pleasure,” Jesse stuttered with a nervous laugh, lowering the weapon he had drawn and moving to tip his hat before it hit him that the siren before him was wearing it. “The name’s McCree, Captain Jesse McCree.” 

From behind his brother, Hanzo perked up, cocking his head with interest. “Ooh, a captain,” Genji grinned, cocking his head at the same time as his brother, flashing his fangs. “A man of the ocean then, that’s charming. I suppose we must come as quite the shock to you, don’t we?” 

Hanzo started to say something, but Jesse spoke before he could get the words out. “Well, I reckon most people would be shocked. Any person would be surprised to meet one siren, let alone two.”

Genji’s eyes widened in surprise, before a slow smile crept across his face. “Siren?” He asked, chuckling a moment before laughing out loud. “You think we’re— brother he thinks we’re sirens!” He cackled, throwing his head back. “Oh that is absolutely too much.”

McCree felt his face get hot, and he glanced at Hanzo for help. But the merman said nothing, simply scowling at looking away. Jesse cleared his throat, searching for words. “Hey now, ain't no reason to laugh at me. Most humans don't know a damn thing about sirens or mermen or whatever the hell you are. Think it's rather justified, given my circumstances.” 

Genji’s laughter slowed as he wiped away a tear, nodding while giving a sympathetic look. “I imagine. Your people do not know much of our kind. In that same respect, I have never experienced a curse, so I feel for you.”

McCree’s face screwed up in confusion, taken aback. “A curse? What do-”

“Genji,” Hanzo snapped, lunging forward and shoving his brother to the side. “Enough nonsense. He is still adjusting to the situation. There is much for him to learn.” His words were measured and careful, but his eyes shot daggers at his brother; a warning. 

The younger dragon sighed but nodded, shrugging his shoulders. “Whatever you say, brother. He’s your human after all. Though it is a shame. I really do think he would be a better addition to my collection.”

“Collection, huh?” McCree asked, intrigued. “I'm sure it's good, but I dunno if any trove could beat the one Hanzo has here. I've never seen such a horde, it's enough to make kings jealous.” He said, gesturing to the massive expanse of gold that lay around them. 

Hanzo beamed proudly, puffing up his chest. The human had every right to praise him, for his collection truly was splendorous. Genji caught the smug look on his face and rolled his eyes, lips curling into a sly smirk as he leaned forward, face close to the human’s again. “Hanzo does have a mighty trove. Like me, he only adds the most beautiful things to his collection,” he gave McCree a once over with his eyes, grinning as he appraised him. “He has impeccable taste in that regard. 

“But I myself collect things that have more… personality,” he mused. “Gold and gemstones hold little appeal to me unless they are created in the tails of the seas most gorgeous creatures.” 

It registered to McCree in an instant, and he raised a brow. “You collect other sirens,” he said, not a question, a clarification. 

Genji grinned and nodded excitedly, giving Hanzo a triumphant smirk. “Not just sirens. I pride myself in having a wide variety of ocean life, from Sirens, to FishFolk, to Scavengers. If they are beautiful and willing, I claim them as my own.” 

Hanzo scoffed, rolling his eyes. “It is more a harem than a collection,” he mused, and Genji only shrugged in return. 

“Call it what you want, I have experience in owning living things. My brother cannot say the same,” he said coyly, tail flicking behind him. 

Hanzo’s eyes narrowed, and he bared his fangs. “That is enough, Genji.” He snarled, muscles tensing. 

McCree held his breath as the air shifted, a tense standoff between the two brothers. Genji’s smile fell, eyes locked on Hanzo’s, and they held each other there. Neither moved, but their gaze burned like a fire, sizing the other up. Genji searched Hanzo’s eyes for intent and found only a stern warning, one which he knew he would not get again.

After a beat, Genji smiled and shrugged, and the moment was broken. “Fine, fine, I have pestered enough. I will return to my pets now, I should make sure they are all taken care of like a proper master.” A weak jab, but enough that Hanzo let out a low growl. Genji snickered and shook his head, locking eyes with McCree. “If you ever decide you would like some less angry company, my pets and I would be glad to have you.” 

Before McCree could answer, Hanzo reached out, resting his hand on Jesse’s chest and drawing him in possessively. “I assure you, my company will be more than enough,” Hanzo shot back. McCree felt himself go rigid at the merman’s touch, unconsciously noting how cold his clawed hand was. “Now go make sure your creatures are not eating each other again.”

Genji paused a moment before laughing, nodding slowly. “Yes, yes, fine brother. I will be leaving. Sheesh,” he chuckled, shaking his head before leaning in, holding a clawed hand up to his mouth. “You know, between you and me, I think he rather likes you.” He whispered, giving Hanzo no time to respond as he shot McCree a wink, pushing back and letting his body slip into the clear water. “Take care now, brother! And you also, Jesse McCree! Ah, also I'll be keeping your hat a bit longer. My pets love it.” 

And with that and one more parting wave, he sunk beneath the glassy surface of the sea, tail breaking the surface as he swam away.

A beat passed where the two sat in stunned silence, Jesse distinctly aware of the weight of the siren’s hand still pressed against his chest. He said nothing, allowing the contact while he reflected on the interaction that had just occurred. On the surface the younger brother seemed flippant, nonchalant about his pleasures and interests. But Jesse McCree was not one to underestimate those he met, and he had learned better than to judge someone by what they gave off. He had no doubt that the green siren was as dangerous as his older brother, a force to be reckoned with but in a different way. He would have to build relationships in order to survive this endeavor and be given any opportunity to escape. But Genji had given him valuable information he could use to his advantage; namely that neither siren wanted him dead, and that they held him with great interest. Valuable information indeed.

“I… apologize for my brother,” Hanzo said after a moment, his deep voice shaking McCree from his thoughts. “He is very… Forward,” He finished, sighing. He looked up at Jesse, their faces incredibly close. 

“Well, it, uh,” Jesse stuttered, taken aback by the intimacy of the moment, and the little flecks of gold that shone within the siren’s dark brown eyes. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. He was… Interesting.” 

Hanzo chuckled. “That he is,” he agreed, pausing as his eyes flit from Jesse’s eyes to his lips. “I believe we were interrupted earlier. What was it we were discussing?” 

McCree felt his breath catch his in throat, though he smiled slowly in spite of himself. “Ya know, I don’t think I could tell ya.”

The siren’s eyes narrowed, a smile spreading on his own lips, and Jesse claught a glimpse of his glittering fangs. “Your heart is beating faster,” Hanzo said in a low rumble. 

“Well what do you know,” Jesse muttered back, “That it is.” 

“Are you afraid?” 

“Who, me?” McCree grinned, eyes burning into Hanzo’s.

The siren laughed before pulling away from Jesse, putting some distance between the two as he propped himself up on a nearby rock. McCree let out a heavy breath, unaware that he had stopped breathing, and felt a spark shoot off at the base of his spine. “I believe I remember,” Hanzo said, running his claws through his long dark hair as he spoke. “We were discussing your needs, and that you had a lot to learn. I was telling you I would teach you and make sure you were always cared for.”

“Ah, yes, right,” Jesse nodded quickly, trying to shake the burning at his core. “Well, if I have a lot to learn, reckon we should start now yeah?” 

“Indeed,” Hanzo nodded, meeting his gaze. “First let us cover the basics. I will sleep on this isle in the center of my lair, and you shall sleep over there, on that bank.” He motioned towards the back of the cave, where a rocky shore disappeared into the darkness of the cavern. “That will be your area. Everyday I will hunt and bring you food, and you will eat and leave whatever remains on that bank. Fresh water collects in pools on those rocks as it falls from the ceiling, so that is what you will drink. Any waste you produce should be left towards the back of the bank. Do you understand so far?” 

Jesse nodded slowly, making mental notes of every rule the siren made. He seemed very methodical, instructing McCree as though he were a schoolboy, but he was in no place to argue. So he simply nodded, saying “Got it,” before the siren continued. 

“Swimming is vital, so once you are fully adjusted and have regained your strength, we will begin your swimming lessons,” Hanzo gestured towards the water. “It will take practice but I insist that you learn.” 

This was cause for concern in Jesse’s mind, as most pirates had a healthy love and fear for the sea, but he simply gave a slow nod in response. 

Hanzo waited a moment, collecting his words. When he spoke, his voice was serious, low and commanding. “I wanted you to understand, Jesse McCree, that you are very lucky to be in the situation you are in currently. The hands of fate brought you to me, and if they had not, you would have been picked apart by the sea. Whatever situation brought you here, you are bound in a purgatory you cannot escape. By belonging to me, you at least have the luxury of life.”

McCree drew back slightly, face screwed up in confusion. “Now hold on, what do you mean by that? What ‘purgatory’ am I bound by? No offense, but becoming part of a siren’s collection is not what I would consider ‘lucky.’” 

“You know nothing,” Hanzo snapped, baring his fangs. Jesse recoiled. “Listen carefully, Jesse McCree. I do not know what hell beast you angered, but you have been cursed with the most hideous black magic I have ever seen. It is a stain on you that no mortal can see, but the creatures of magic can sense and feel at the core of our very beings. You would have been doomed, unable to die, floating aimlessly at sea and picked apart by the beasts of the deep until the creature that put that mark on you either consumed you or was banished to whatever hell it belonged to.” He gestured to himself, clutching at his chest. “At least here, you are given the opportunity to not be tormented for the rest of your eternity. I give you the closest thing you have to freedom, and you dare say you are not lucky. Perhaps I should throw you back to the sea for the reaper to find, if you would so prefer.” 

McCree said nothing, absolutely stunned. He had been assaulted by a barrage of information that his brain struggled to take in all at once, mind moving a mile a minute. A curse? A Hell Beast? Gabriel. He felt his heart speed up as he considered what that meant, a slow dread building in his stomach. Gabriel had cursed him, that was what he had meant. Unable to die? Was he immortal? Doomed to be alive until Gabriel found him once again? Would Gabriel even come looking, or had he intended to leave him stranded at sea for all eternity? Panic started to shake him at his core, tearing through him as he was suddenly hit with reality. No, not Gabriel. He would never give him the opportunity for rescue. Gabriel Reyes would never let him live. What had he said? 

'I’ll come for you,' his voice, dark and wet, dripping from his lips like the smoke that poured between his teeth as it blasted through McCree’s head. 'I will come for you every time, and I will find you no matter how much you run. And I will take everything you love from you. And you will have to live with that and suffer how I have suffered. Consider this your chance at a head start.'

He shuddered at the clarity of Gabriel’s voice in his mind, shaking his head wildly for a moment to push it out. He tried to bring up Fareeha, Amari, his mother, someone to overpower Gabriel’s smokey clawed fingers digging into the folds of his mind. 

“Jesse.”

He jumped with a start at the closeness of the voice, not in his mind, but right in front of him. Hs eyes shot open, and it was Hanzo that was before him, voice careful and measured. McCree panted heavily, gasping for breath as he took in the sight of the beautiful creature before him, so different than Gabriel’s hideous form that slunk within the shadows of his skull. 

“Jesse,” Hanzo repeated, slowly lifting a hand and laying it across the human’s heart. McCree lurched at the contact, but Hanzo shook his head softly. “Whatever happened, it is not here. You were given an opportunity, and I intend to help you. If I did not want you here, I would have left you in the sea. Whatever did this to you, it cannot find you here. I said your needs would be met, and I meant it. I swear to you I will keep you safe.” 

McCree fought to steady his breathing, focusing on Hanzo’s words and nothing else. He slowly looked up to meet his eyes, taking in his features. He really was beautiful, unlike anything Jesse had ever seen. He nodded as he fought to find clarity, to center his body, to bring himself back up from the fear that had taken hold of his heart since they day he had left his old life behind. 

“He… He won’t find me here...?” Jesse asked, voice shaking as he fought to steady his breath. 

“He will not. I swear it,” Hanzo repeated with a gentle smile, trying his best to sound sincere despite the voice at the back of his mind telling him he had no way of keeping such a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Did you miss me? 
> 
> Sorry it took so long, I had a lot going on, personal stuff, and needed time to figure it out. Hopefully the next chapter will come out a lot sooner now that I have more free time. Sorry this chapter isn't crazy long, but I feel like it helped push the plot and helped get McCree and Hanzo in the right mindsets to move forward.
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment here, or shoot me a message on either of my blogs.  
> As always, I hope you all enjoyed, and thank you for all the encouragement.  
> -Samatura
> 
> http://sake-and-whiskey.tumblr.com/  
> http://samatura.tumblr.com/


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An olive branch is extended, and information shared.

The first week went well, all things considered. 

Well, as well as it could have gone. Hanzo had been insistent upon the rules he had set, which meant Jesse needed to be able to bridge the expanse of water in the cavern to go from the central rocky outcrop to the bank at the back. This had been an ordeal, the two arguing relentlessly. Hanzo could not fathom why Jesse would not just get in the water, and Jesse was not at all eager to return to the sea after nearly drowning the day before. Not to mention that after coming down from his panic attack, he wasn’t positive he could trust getting in the water with the siren in the first place. They argued over the best method, whether or not it was safe, and why Jesse couldn’t just stay on the center island, among other things. It ended with nothing but shouting and cursing, until finally Hanzo had relented, but only for the time being.

That was the first argument between them, and certainly not the last. Hanzo held grudges to prove a point, and would not speak unless Jesse apologized. Jesse was stubborn as all hell, and not willing to budge. So the first night, no words were shared between them, silence filling the space between the rock where Hanzo lay and the shore where Jesse curled up, neither sleeping yet neither speaking, only listening to the sounds of the other breathing and the gentle lapping of the water on the rocky bank.

The day after had been its own adventure. It started with fish, to be specific. Hanzo brought McCree fruit in the mornings after his hunt, and would spill them onto Jesse’s side of the bank before moving to his own to eat the creatures he had hunted. Normally the dragon fed on large fish, which was quite a sight. Hanzo would tear the creature apart with his claws, strong jaw full of sharpened fangs ripping through the flesh easily. McCree would watch from across the cave, slowly chewing his meal of coconuts or mangos or something of the like, eyebrows raised as he watched the dragon feed. He could not decide if he watched out of curiosity or disgust, but either way he couldn’t look away. 

Suddenly the dragon had looked up, eyes locking with Jesse’s. Blood was painted across Hanzo’s lips, dripping down his chin onto his scaly tail, and it spilled from the rocks to the water, clouding it with its rich color. The two didn’t speak, only looking at each other before Hanzo wiped his mouth with his hand, only serving to smear the blood further across his face. He looked like a real hunter then, a predator covered in blood, and he gave McCree a challenging smirk, a flash of teeth painted red glinting in the early morning light. 

“What is the matter, captain?” he chuckled, clearly amused with himself. “Got something to say?”

McCree narrowed his eyes before shrugging, nodding his head towards the dragon. “I was admirin’ your dinner. Or at least, what it was before,” He motioned again to the pile of flesh that sat in the dragon’s hands.   
Hanzo blinked at this response, thinking a moment before cocking his head in thought. After a moment he grabbed what remained of the fish’s carcass in both hands, heaving it over his head and throwing it at the human. McCree jumped back in surprise as the mass of scales and stripped bone hit the rock in front of him with a wet slap, specks of blood and other liquid splattering around him. 

“You may have the rest if you are so interested in it,” Hanzo said as he began dunking his hands in the water, slowly clawing away the blood that crusted his nails. 

Now it was Jesse’s turn to stare, blinking slowly at the dragon before turning to the pile of raw mush in front of him. A smile slowly cracked on his lips until finally he burst out laughing. Hanzo’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing as he took in the pirate, laughing like a fool before him. “I did not realize I was so humorous,” He snarled, glowering at McCree. “I can take it back.”

 

McCree shook his head quickly, laughter trailing off but smile remaining. “Nah, nah it ain’t that. I’m mighty happy you were willin’ to share. Just don’t know if I have the stomach for a pile of raw meat.”

Hanzo’s eyes widened, and he raised an eyebrow in surprise. Humans could not eat raw meat? If he remembered correctly, the Shimada clan had been able to eat raw fish. Infact, he knew they had, and could remember beautifully plated and crafted dishes being presented to him and his brother long ago. And yet the foreigner didn’t have a taste for it. That figured, he mused, it was unlikely a man such as the one before him would have a taste for the finer things.

“How predictable… Such an unsophisticated taste,” Hanzo grumbled.

Across the rocks, McCree rolled his eyes. “Well excuuuuse me. I’m not sayin’ I won’t eat it, I just can’t eat it raw. If you had any way of cooking it I wouldn’t mind none. But now I’m fine without it, thank you very much.” 

The dragon pondered this for a moment, and then turned away, silently washing the blood from his hands and body. Jesse took that to mean the conversation was over, which was fine by him, and turned away, continuing to munch angrily on his breakfast of fruit. 

The hours of the day passed slowly for McCree. Hanzo would leave the cave for hours on end, and Jesse would have to find things to entertain himself with. Sometimes it was counting the drips of water that fell from the ceiling. Other times it was building piles and shapes from the empty carcasses of the fruit he had eaten for breakfast. On more than one occasion he did nothing at all, simply laying on the rocks and looking up, or sleeping for many hours. 

Hours felt like days when there was nothing to do, which was dangerous for McCree as the voices of the past would whisper to him, filling the silence with their wants and desires. Fareeha would call to him occasionally, reminding him not to give up and to avenge her, or sometimes Reyes would whisper evil things in his ear, taunts and threats of the past. Of course the voices were all in his head, a coping mechanism to keep him from going mad he had developed long ago. But sometimes the voices were too much, and to drown them out, McCree would sing.

While Jesse McCree was a man of many flaws, he was also one of many talents, and one of those was singing. He was not one to brag of his own abilities, but he could hold a tune quite well. His voice was always strong and confident, be it in a pub leading a group of drunken friends in song, or on the deck of his ship, carrying his motley crew in the chorus of a pirate shanty. So sometimes, when the voices became too loud in his head or he couldn’t be bothered to count the stalactites in the ceiling, he would sing. 

The songs would vary, for McCree knew a great many. Sometimes they would be filthy pirate songs detailing pillaging ships and sexual conquests. Other times it would be songs from foreign countries, ones he had heard sung by Captain Amari or Fareeha in his youth. And occasionally, he would sing slow songs, romantic and heartfelt. His deep voice would reverberate off the rocks, filling the cavern with his melodic words. 

It was during one of these songs when Hanzo returned, silently breaching the surface of the water after a long (and particularly exhausting) conversation with Genji. He had spent the later parts of the day complaining in great detail about everything the pirate did that drove him mad, and Genji had listened with a bemused expression but offered nothing in the way of genuine help or advice, only giving cryptic responses. 

“If you want the human to like you, try being a little nicer. Get to know him,” Genji had said with a shrug. “You are both too stubborn to make any progress if you do not try.” 

He sounded like Sojiro Shimada, Hanzo had thought with a huff. All cryptic answers and poetic verses, nothing straight forward. He had left with the same amount of irritation as when he had arrived at Genji’s lagoon, nothing gained. As he made the journey back to his lair he thought of all the things he could say to the human to put him in his place, to make him be less stubborn.

But as he broke the surface, his thoughts were put on pause. The cave was filled with a beautiful sound, singing unlike any he had heard before. He slowly drew closer to his side of the bank, crawling up the rock just enough to peer at the human on the other side. McCree was laying on his back, eyes closed as he sang. His words were uninhibited, voice low and deep, slow and rumbling across the water. 

The words of the song were sweet yet sad, a bitter story of a sailor’s unrequited love with a mysterious woman he had met one night sitting on some rocks on the beach. The woman was beautiful and mysterious, and the two shared a wonderful night together, making love on the sand before falling asleep in each other’s arms. When he awoke in the morning, naked and sprawled out on the beach, all he held in his arms was a pile of shells. The man was, of course, confused and unsure of whether the whole thing had just been a dream. So the next night he came back, and again there the woman was, sitting on the rocks at the beach. The two ran to each other and again made love, and again he fell asleep with her in his arms and awoke to nothing but shells. This went on for several days, until the sailor soon had to go back aboard his ship. The night before he was to set out, he went to the beach to tell the woman that he loved her, but she never came. The man was, of course, heart broken, and set out to sea the next morning with nothing but pain and bitterness.

Hanzo found himself not breathing, hanging on every word the pirate sang. The story progressed on, with the sailor’s ship getting trapped in a storm, and he was thrown overboard. The sailor, of course, could not swim, and as he began to sink into the waves the last thing he saw was the face of the woman he loved, reaching out towards him in the water. When the man awoke, he was on the beach of his home town, and there was the woman he loved. Only now, as she laid with him in the sand, a tail like a fish replaced her legs. The man had fallen in love with a siren, and she had fallen in love with him. And because sirens can see the future, she had known where he would crash into the sea, so she had left so that she might have the chance to save him. The sailor was so happy he could not speak, and the two made love under the stars once more. Eventually the siren gave up her tail and kept her human legs for the man, and the two were together forever, always holding each other under the stars.

When the song ended, Hanzo felt his heart sway, and he let out a quiet breath as the last note resounded off the cave walls. His body released the tension he had built, and he slowly propped his head on his hands, watching the human who continued to lay on the rock across from him. The sun was fading quickly, and pinkish beams of light filled the cavern with a glow as warm as McCree’s voice. After a moment, Hanzo gathered his words, speaking gently. 

“That was quite a story,” the dragon said. McCree sat up quickly, reaching for his pistol that lay beside him on the rock, before he realized who had spoken and relaxed, turning to Hanzo.  
“Isn’t it? It was always one of my favorites,” He said, only slightly embarrassed. If he had known the dragon was listening, he might’ve picked a different song.

“There are a few things that are incorrect,” Hanzo mused, tilting his head. “But for the sake of the story, they were passable.”  
Jesse raised an eyebrow, interested. “Oh? Like what?”   
“Well for one,” the dragon began. “Sirens cannot see the future. So she would not have known he was going to be thrown overboard.”  
“Well I’ll be damned,” Jesse muttered, taken aback slightly. “I always heard sirens could see the past and the future, and what a man wanted most.”  
“A man’s true desire, that is correct,” Hanzo nodded approvingly. “That is how they are able to lure their prey, by appealing to them with that which they desire most. But to see a man’s life is not a skill they posses unless it is directly related to their desire.”  
“I see,” McCree muttered.  
“And another thing that was incorrect was the part about her legs,” Hanzo said quickly. “Sirens are sirens, they do not possess shapeshifting magic unless they are put under a spell of some sort by another being, they cannot do it themselves. Very few magical creatures have the ability to take the form of man. So the two would have had to remain lovers by the sea.” 

Jesse blinked in surprise. The two hadn’t spoken to each other this much since their discussion when Jesse had first arrived, and now the creature was giving him a plethora of information. Perhaps this was a gesture of some kind, an offering of calm instead of the hostility he had grown used to. Whatever it was, he would take this olive branch and extend his own, as well as use this conversation for its potential for valuable information.

“Other magical creatures? How many are there? We sailors only ever really talk about sirens and krakens. Well, the sailors around here anyways,” He corrected. “Some of the foreign sailors talk about selkies and water horses or other things.”

“Ah, there are a great many more than that,” Hanzo nodded. “But those kinds of creatures come from colder water, or fresh waters in different lands. Just as animals on the surface require different conditions to live, so do we under the water. Most do not venture here, but some find their way into the warm waters in which we live.” If he wasn’t mistaken, he was pretty sure Genji actually owned a selkie in his collection of creatures. He was never very interested in Genji’s horde, but now he found himself curious enough to ask in their next meeting.

McCree’s mouth fell open, dumbfounded. Many more? How many more? All the legends and myths were real, just with slight inaccuracies? It was almost too much for him to believe. But his mind drifted to the events only a few days prior, to the creature of smoke and evil intentions that had sunken his ship and put him in this situation. If something like that could exist, then there was no telling what else could live in the world, just out of sight.

“So then… If sirens can’t do all that stuff in the song, where do people get those ideas?” He asked warily. “Surely they can’t all be made up?”  
“I would say there is surely a portion that is made up to make your stories more interesting,” Hanzo mused. “But no, a good portion are abilities other stronger creatures possess, as I said before. Humans just can’t tell the difference between us.”

Jesse pondered on this for a moment before coming to a realization, snapping his fingers with understanding. “Like when I called you a siren, and your brother laughed at me? It’s ‘cuz you two aren’t the same as sirens?”  
Hanzo rolled his eyes as he remembered Genji’s guffaw at the human’s mistake, but nodded. “Yes. Because we are finned creatures humans imagine us to be the same as Sirens, because that is the only race of sea creature they know. But we are far different.”   
“What, uh,” McCree began, unsure of how to phrase his question politely. “What exactly are you two?” 

Hanzo cocked his head, smiling with a flash of sharp teeth. “We are Dragons.” 

McCree blinked, taken aback only for a moment. “Dragons? Like sea dragons?”

“Something to that affect, yes,” Hanzo chuckled, brushing a piece of long hair behind one of his finned ears. “We are, how would you say… More pure bred creatures of magic. Sirens are born from the sea, where as we are born from a different place. It is hard to explain to someone with no knowledge of the world of magic.”  
“Well I, I reckon I wouldn’t mind learning,” Jesse offered, mind racing a thousand miles a minute. Dragons? What in the hell did that mean?   
“Hmm…” Hanzo pondered for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. “Perhaps another time. The sun is gone, and you need rest. I intend to start your swimming training tomorrow, so you need all the energy you can get. Perhaps depending on your level of success, I will tell you more of what you wish to know.” 

McCree hadn’t noticed that the sunlight had died away, pale moonlight streaming down in thin beams. He soured slightly at the concept of getting in the water, but after tonight, he was a little less nervous about the siren- no, the dragon- being there with him. So he sighed, but gave a nod. “I suppose that’s fair. I’ll try and get some rest then.” 

 

Hanzo nodded approvingly, pulling himself onto the rock, his long tail coiling around himself as he tried to get comfortable on the outcropping. “Then we shall speak again in the morning, Jesse McCree.”

The pirate nodded, pulling his coat up over himself as he laid back down on the rocks. “Til then, Hanzo.” 

The two did not speak to each other again that night, the cave filled once more with the dripping of water and the lapping of the waves. Their minds were full, and both had many a thing to think about. Eventually, as Hanzo had just closed his eyes, he heard a low rumbling from the otherside of the cave. His ear twitched, picking up the low and sweet voice of Jesse McCree. He sang softly, just loud enough for Hanzo to hear, in a language he did not know. But the words rolled from his tongue, and the dragon felt his mind ease as his breathing grew heavy, lulled to sleep by the songs of the pirate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this one was a long time coming huh? Thank you guys so much for dealing with my long absences, I'm hoping to not make it a habit. 
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment here, or shoot me a message on either of my blogs.  
> As always, I hope you all enjoyed, and thank you for all the encouragement.  
> -Samatura
> 
> http://sake-and-whiskey.tumblr.com/  
> http://samatura.tumblr.com/


End file.
